


False Confidence

by Ellis_Paperwork



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: (at least in this AU), A few swear words here and there, Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst, Brainwashing, Cassandra and Mikey friendship pls do not ship them, Cassandra is like 18-19, Hurt/Comfort, Mikey is just rlly confused and is trying to do the right thing pls bless his heart, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, SPOILERS FOR "HOT SOUP THE GAME"- THE REST OF SEASON 1, TCEST DNI, footclan!Mikey, he goes emo lol, im sorta giving Cassandra her own backstory?, theres a bit of violence, theres also a lot of emotional manipulation on the Foot's part, updates every Monday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellis_Paperwork/pseuds/Ellis_Paperwork
Summary: Impressed by the way the orange turtle had been able to single-handedly take on their most promising recruit, the Foot Clan decides maybe they should be looking to enlist this strange mutant instead of destroying him. It’s to be expected that he won’t join willingly. Luckily, there are… other means of recruitment.AU set after the episode, “Hot Soup the Game.” An amnesic Michelangelo who’s been convinced to have been born and raised in the foot clan, has his world thrown upside down when he encounters three mutant turtles who claim to be his brothers. He’s starting to think maybe things were easier when he couldn’t remember anything at all…
Comments: 38
Kudos: 143





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta-reading this fic!

And I wonder why I tear myself down  
To be built back up again?  
Oh I hope somehow, I'll wake up young again  
All that's left of myself  
Holes in my false confidence  
And now I lay myself down  
And hope I wake up young again  
Hope I wake up young again  
-Noah Kahan "False Confidence"

_________________________________________________________________________

It was a peaceful evening in New York. The area surrounded by one of the town’s many auction houses was unusually quiet. Only a few streetlamps illuminated the street and a single spotlight lit up the building’s sign for any passersby to see. The building had long since closed for the day, any employees already off to their homes to enjoy the rest of their night. Suddenly a loud crashing of glass pierced through the night and a shrill prepubescent scream could be barely heard from the empty sidewalk.

“I had it in my hands! I was literally ready to leave!” Michelangelo flailed his arms in front of him, furiously explaining to his slightly embarrassed older brother. “What part of ‘on my own’ don’t you understand?!”

Both were unaware of a certain ninja recruit, who was previously dispatched, freeing herself from the harp she was entangled with.

Raph let out a nervous chuckle and held out his hand. “Ah hah, little man-“

“WHAT? Say what!?” Michelangelo interrupted with an offended tone.

“UH- I mean big man!” The ninja in red quickly corrected himself, holding up his hands in a surrendering position. “I will open up my apology wallet and give you a big stack of-“

“Yeah, yeah…” Leonardo interrupted, with his sword lazily propped up on his shoulder. “Mistakes were made, lessons were learned. We got a VIDEO GAME to play. So, vamonos hermanos!”

A proud hearty laugh caught the turtles’ attention which was quickly intensified with multiple kunai knives being hurdled towards the smallest of them with speed and precision. Mikey let out a small gasp before skillfully dodging with the grace of a dancer. However, he was unable to prepare for the Foot recruit herself who barreled into him with a kick to the turtle’s chest, sending him flying into the wall behind him. Immediately Mikey’s brothers reacted. Raph launched himself first at the recruit. The snapping turtle didn't even get a chance to land a punch as he was kicked backwards while the blue-clad turtle jumped over him. Leo brought his sword down over his head but his wrist was snatched by the female ninja who tossed him forward, jumping up as she did so. She landed into a crouch, grabbed onto the tech bo that was swung at her chest from her left side, and pulled hard, yanking the softshell into a spin that swept him off his feet and disposed of him into the opposite wall.

Donatello landed with a grunt as the foot recruit caught the game cartridge that had been tossed into the air. “HAH!” she squealed with a victory cry. “Solo mission complete!”

The wall behind her erupted into an explosion, sending herself and the video game flying to the floor. “We’re here to rescue you!” The large foot soldier announced.

“NooOOOO!” The female recruit jumped back up onto her legs and let out a disapproving scream. “I had it in my hands! I was literally ready to leave! What part of ‘on my own’ DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?!” She mirrored her previous adversary in a fit of anger.

“Yeah! She gets it!” Mikey popped up as well with a smile, excited to feel understood through his intense disappointment of his brothers hijacking his mission.

“Stay out of this you little pipsqueak!” The large Foot soldier pointed accusingly as Raphael tumbled up behind him.

“Woah! Whose brother you callin’ a ‘Pipsqueak’? Toehead!” He growled, tonfas in hand.

“Maybe YOU’RE the Pipsqueak!” the Foot soldier growled back, thrusting a finger into the snapping turtle’s chest.

With a final growl, Raph finally tackled the larger ninja with a cry of, “I’ll protect you, Mikey!”

The smaller Foot soldier glanced down, the video game catching his attention. Swooping to the ground and picking up the cartridge he hummed. “Wait a minute… That is not the artifact we seek.”

The recruit stuttered for a minute, looking confused. “I-It’s the only Lou Jitsu thing here?”

“Well then your mission is a bust.” The Lieutenant called out, tossing the game to the side. “On the technicality of course… But don’t be discouraged!” He flipped his palms upwards to summon mystic rings which circled his hands and crackled with energy. “The road to success is paved with milleessss of failure.” With a quick thrust, he clapped his hands together, opening a swirling mystic portal.

“I shall prove I am worthy next time!” The recruit called out with a burst of determination as she ran towards the portal to retreat.

“Yes, yes… I know.” The Lieutenant nodded his head towards the portal. “Come, we’ll get a nice falafel.” As the recruit disappeared through the pink magic energy, he stepped in after her. The portal closed leaving Raph to brawl with the larger Foot soldier who had stayed behind.

Mikey noticed the Lou Jitsu game in front of him, and with a swoop of his hand the game was being proudly held in the air. “Chopsocky violence here we come!”

_________________________________________________________________________

The Foot recruit drummed her fingers on the table in an act of boredom. The Brute had returned not too long ago and was currently getting scolded by the Lieutenant while he was bandaging the Brute’s wounds.

“You think this is bad? HAH! You should’ve seen the other guy.” The Brute snickered but flinched again when the Lieutenant tugged on the gauze that he was encasing the Foot’s forearm with.

“Unfortunately, it seems these nuisances are developing to be quite worthy opponents.” Lieutenant grunted in his raspy voice.

“Ay yeah, especially that little guy.” The Brute brought an icepack down from his head. “He went toe to toe with our recruit and almost had her beat for a minute there.”

The Foot recruit snarled a little at the mention of her failed mission.

“You don’t expect such a tiny fella to be so strong.” The larger Foot soldier hummed, thinking back to the battle they witnessed in their mystic mirror. While the box turtle obviously lacked traditional training, he moved fluidly and with an observable amount of natural talent. They had personally tested their recruit’s capabilities and she was quite the adversary. She had been training under the strict regimen of the foot clan since she was seven after all. For the youngest turtle to be able to match skills with one of their most promising ninja was a feat in and of itself.

“Hmmm…” The Lieutenant rubbed his chin in thought for a moment. “You make an excellent point. Imagine the capabilities if he had received legitimate ninjitsu training.”

The Foot recruit grumbled again and finally shot up from where she sat at the fold out table in their warehouse, right above their underground base. “If he’s such a competent ninja why don't you just recruit him instead!” She snapped sarcastically. Her failure tonight left her in a bitter mood and the unnecessary praise her senseis were giving the enemy left her jealous and enraged.

The two Foot soldiers looked at her for a moment before returning their gazes to each other. “Actually…. I think she’s on to something…” The Lieutenant mumbled.

“SERIOUSLY?!” The recruit grunted in another fit of anger and kicked over her chair.

Ignoring her outburst the Brute nodded. “Yeah, yeah! Those little punks are always running into us and messing up our groove. It’d be a nice change of pace to have them on OUR side for once.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me-“ The recruit muttered again but was interrupted by the Lieutenant standing up

“That blue one is far too loud… and annoying.” The Lieutenant mumbled, rubbing his chin. “And the purple one freaks me out.”

“Nothing’s really wrong with the red one, I just sorta hate his guts.” The Brute shrugged.

“Then it’s settled.” The Lieutenant snapped his finger and pointed towards their recruit who had her mouth dropped in disbelief. “Recruit! I want you to find that orange turtle and bring him here, we have an initiation to plan for.”

“B-B-But Sir!” The Recruit blinked rapidly. “He’s one of the mutants! You can’t just recruit our enemy! W-what if he doesn’t come willingly?” She tried to think of reasons to  
get the soldiers to reconsider their impulsive decision.

The Brute let out a hearty chuckle that shook the building. “You think most of our recruits come WILLINGLY?” He laughed again clutching his chest. “Oh that’s too good.”

“Wh-“ The recruit turned confused to the Lieutenant.

“Turns out modern society doesn’t feel the need to pledge allegiance to the clans they were born into anymore.” He shrugged. “We have other methods of gaining members when our numbers are dwindling.”

“Consider this your new initiation mission!” the Brute smiled. “Hunt down and bring the Pipsqueak to us and you will become an official member of the Foot Clan.”

The recruit paused for a moment before clenching her fists and standing up straight before bowing precisely to a 90-degree angle. “Yes Sensei! I will not fail you!” She then immediately took off to go prepare for her solo mission. As much as she despised the idea of having to work alongside her enemy, she would not disobey a direct order. She would become part of the Foot… no matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the beginning chapters were kinda short. They start to get longer soon here, I promise.  
> Again another huge thanks to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!

Woke up this morning with a gun to my head  
Brotha' should have told me she want me dead  
Without a warning, not a clue, without a sound  
In your house, out of bounds, you can run but you can't hide  
-"She Wants Me Dead," CASSETTE  
______________________________________________________________________

Mikey huffed as he pulled a large duffle bag over his shoulders. It was practically half his size, but it was the only thing big enough to carry all his spray paint cans in. After crashing Mikey’s solo mission, Raphael reluctantly agreed to let him go out again on his own to make up for it.

“You have your phone on you right? And it’s got a full battery?” Raph questioned hovering over their youngest as he prepared to leave. “I put one of Don’s mini med kits in your bag in case you fall and scrape your knees or something-“

The look of disapproval Mikey gave him made Raph shut his mouth. “Raph, I’m just going to go finish up some tags. I’ll only be gone a few hours tops.”

“He’s right, you shouldn’t worry so much, big brother!” Leo smiled, leaning on Raph’s shoulder.

“I’m not worried!” The snapping turtle protested. “I just… have a healthy concern for my younger brother’s wellbeing is all. Oh by the way I packed you a snack too if you get hungry and-”

“Raph.” Mikey stopped his brother again before he could continue. “I’m only going a few blocks away; I don’t need you to coddle me.” He pulled his headphones onto his shoulders for later use and kicked up his skateboard into his arms as he walked towards the lair entrance.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop.” Raph gave a small smile knowing how overbearing he can be. “Just be sure to send one of us a text when you’re on your way back, and… have fun, Mikey.”

Mikey smiled back holding up a peace sign. “I will. see you guys later!” And with his final goodbye, Mikey rolled out his board and skated off into the sewers headed for the nearest manhole cover.

Mikey rolled to a stop as soon as he bumped into a metal ladder that would dispose him right into a shaded alley. He kicked his board into his arms and with one hand, he climbed upwards. Shifting the manhole cover, the metal plating made a loud squeal as it grated the concrete. He climbed out of the hole and slid the cover back on, ready to take off into the night of freedom. It had only been a few days since his auction house adventure, but Mikey was already feeling the cramped displeasure of living with three older brothers. He loved them with all his heart and spending time with them was one of his favorite pastimes, but every so often the artistic box turtle just needed some space to himself. As annoying as it was, Mikey understood the hovering over shoulders and constant check-ins. Raphael was his big brother and worrying was just his job. However, he was still very grateful to be allowed to have this time topside alone.

Skating over rooftops and grinding down fire escapes were just the beginning of the excitement on Mikey’s list for tonight. Sliding down the ladder on the side of a building, Mikey entered an alleyway that connected to a passage that went underneath a bridge. This concrete cove was home to many works of street art and Mikey had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to throw up a tag of his own. He let the duffle bag strap roll off his shoulder as he prepared to live up to his name.

Unbeknownst to the box turtle, a figure had been stalking him for a few blocks. The shadow crouched, completely hidden, watching the turtle mess around with his spray paints. They almost snickered as he pulled on a pair of headphones. There’s no way it was THIS easy. The Foot recruit stepped slightly out of the shadows, glancing around her environment to assure there were no witnesses. The turtle didn’t even notice the small movement behind him. How dare her Senseis think so highly of this amateur. They really think he is worthy enough to be in the Foot Clan? How disgraceful. She huffed angrily, pulling out a kunai she launched it at the unsuspecting teen, grazing just close enough to his head to pierce and crumble his headphones.

“WoaH!” The orange clad turtle jumped backwards, staring at the kunai stuck in the concrete before whipping his head around to the foe who was half hidden by the shadow of the bridge. “Hey, watch the art! It’s disrespectful!”

“You buffoon!” The Foot recruit launched herself at the turtle who blocked her kick with his forearms. “You call yourself a ninja?!”

“Um, yeah?” Mikey ducked to an oncoming punch and pulled his kusari-fundo, launching it towards the recruit. “It’s sorta our thing?”

The Foot recruit moved to the side slightly to dodge the flaming weapon but grabbed onto the chain as it passed and gave a hard yank, sending Mikey forward towards her with a gasp. She spun around, sending him flying again in the opposite direction with a roundhouse kick.

Mikey landed with a soft “Oof” and as the recruit approached he quickly dug into the open duffle bag and threw a can of paint at his opponent who instinctively slashed it with her kunai, exploding the spray paint in a blinding cloud of neon pink.

“GaH!” The Foot recruit stumbled back, rubbing at her eyes. Mikey took this opportunity to grab his weapon again and lasso it around her. With a turn, he suddenly hauled the chain over his shoulder, sending the recruit flying over the bridge.

“Come on, lady!” Mikey finally yelled now that she was slightly apprehended. “Can’t a turtle just go out for once without any relative harm to prove to his older siblings he can take care of himself!”

The recruit ignored him and untangled herself from the kusari-fundo as soon as she recovered from her brief fight. She shook with rage. She couldn’t lose to this child. She had to become a part of the Foot. It was her goal, her destiny! “I will not have you stand in my way again!” She shouted back, pulling a metal pipe that was slightly bent at the bottom from the ground.

“Stand in your way?!” Mikey raised a non-existent eyebrow. “You’re the one who keeps following ME!”

“ArGGGGHHHH!” With a battle cry, the recruit jumped back into action, a newfound burst of determination pumped through her veins. She kicked up a discarded can of spray paint and hit it with her metal pole like a hockey puck. With deadly accuracy it zipped right onto his plastron, sending the turtle skidding back with his arms lifted over his face.

Mikey considered calling his brothers. His phone was tucked away in his duffle bag and with a few quick defensive attacks he was certain he could reach it. ‘No…’ he thought. ‘I need to prove I can do things by myself!’ Raph would never let Mikey out of his sight if he needed to be rescued AGAIN.

Lost in brief thought, Mikey didn’t notice how quickly the Foot recruit was approaching. With an uppercut to his jaw, Mikey was sent staggering back even further. He was now cornered into the back of the alley. He moaned, rubbing his beak only to find a few dots of blood smeared onto the back of his hand. “Come on! Surely we can work this out. We don’t have to fight each other!”

This only seemed to piss her off more. “Pathetic.” She spat. “You are not worthy of the Foot Clan.”

“Wait what?” Mikey lowered his defensive stance in confusion, unfortunately this is when she attacked again.

The metal rod she had been using as a weapon was spinning through the air headed directly for Mikey’s forehead. The box turtle fell into a split to dodge as the rod impaled itself into the brick wall behind him. Mikey rolled backwards and settled into a crouch, backflipping away when the recruit came towards him with a jab of her fists. Michelangelo dropped into another crouch and swept the recruit’s legs from underneath her. She cried out, landing on her back. Mikey turned slightly and grabbed the rod that was stuck in the wall and swung it over his shoulders, aimed for her abdomen. The recruit rolled out of the way at the last second and pounced onto the turtle who didn’t have enough time to react. Straddling the turtle who was laying on his carapace, she punched him across the face as he let out a grunt of pain.

“Seriously, can we just talk this out!” Mikey recovered quickly and used his legs to toss the girl over his head. “What do you want from me?!”

“I don’t want anything FROM you.” She hissed launching a fist at him again. When Mikey turned out of the way, she tripped and landed on the floor again on all fours. Mikey walked up behind her, hesitant to fight her while she was down. “My Senseis however…” She gripped onto the bent metal rod that was below her. “...want you.”

Michelangelo made a questioning noise before the recruit swung around crashing the metal rod against the side of his head with a sickening thud. She heaved in breaths of air as the turtle tumbled to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The recruit tossed the rod away and crouched down to the ninja, rolling him over so he was faced upwards towards her.

“And who am I to disappoint?”


	3. Chapter 3

Tomorrow is another day  
And you won't have to hide away  
You'll be a man, boy!  
But for now it's time to run  
It's time to run!

Run boy run  
This ride is a journey to  
Run boy run  
The secret inside of you  
Run boy run  
This race is a prophecy  
Run boy run  
And disappear in the trees  
-"Run Boy Run," by Woodkid

______________________________________________________________________

Raph tapped the back of his phone anxiously, staring at the black screen, and praying that he would receive a notification soon. Their youngest brother had been gone for over four hours now and the anxiety had clenched around Raphael’s throat, making it hard to breathe. Leo and Donnie had both wordlessly joined him in the living room, but it was clear they were waiting for Mikey to return as well. As much as the twins encouraged their younger brother’s independence they also had an overprotective streak that would make an appearance if events prompted them to do so. Donatello pretended to tweak wiring inside a large chunk of metal; it looked like a piece of his drill. They all knew he was just fumbling with the color-coded strings to appear busy. Leonardo stared intensely at their projector screen, playing a video game, but it was clear by the “Game Over” icon that popped up every few minutes, he wasn’t paying as much attention as it seemed.

The only thing keeping Raph from shooting up off the couch and barreling down the sewers after the youngest was Donatello’s reminder that the GPS in Michelangelo’s cell phone was still at the bridge, exactly where Mikey said he would be.

Raph let out another frustrated sigh as he turned on his phone and scrolled through his messages. Nothing from Michelangelo since yesterday when he sent over some goofy selfies out of obvious boredom. The snapping turtle felt a small smile crawl onto his face as he scrolled through the spam of silly faces and beauty filters. Whenever Mikey got bored or wanted one of his brother’s attention he would take a bunch of goofy pictures and send them until the brother whose attention he craved responded. Leo would usually start sending pictures back, turning it into a competition of sorts to see who could take the most absurd picture. Donatello took a while to respond, feigning annoyance to the notifications but Raph knew he only did it because the pictures made him laugh and he didn’t want Mikey to stop at only a few. The emotionally unavailable bad-boy would have his shell if he ever told anyone, but Raphael once stumbled upon a few of the photos printed out and hung up on the wall in Donnie’s room along with the other family photos Don liked to keep up.

Scrolling back to the bottom of his screen where there were still no new messages from Mikey, Raphael bit his lip. “That’s it, I’m calling him.” The twins looked up but said nothing in silent relief.

Raph tapped the “call” icon and brought the phone up to the side of his head, listening to the buzzing of the dial tone. As the seconds ticked by, the anxiety he felt settled hard into his stomach like a rock. The three brothers waiting in complete silence, nobody moving a muscle, while they listened to the phone’s vibration. After a full thirty seconds ticked by, the call automatically went to voicemail.

“Chello! This is Michael-Angelo you are trying to reach.” The digital tone of their youngest rang out into the lair. “Sorry I missed your call; I most likely have pizza grease all over my hands at the moment. I’ll call you back when I get the chance. Bye, love you!”

Raphael wasn’t sure why he let the full voicemail play out. He remembered when they had first recorded all their voicemails for Donnie to program into their phones. The softshell had immediately questioned why Mikey had to say “Love you” at the end of his call.

Mikey simply laughed as if it were obvious. “Well duh- it’s ‘cause I love you guys.” The four of them and April were the only ones who had had his number after all.

Raphael clicked his phone off and looked up at his brothers who were both now as anxious as himself.

Leo stood, grabbing his sword which was lazily leaning up against the loveseat. He strapped it onto his shell, looking back at his brothers. “Well, are we going to check up on him or what?”

The two other turtles rose to their feet, weapons already nearby, ready to leave at moments notice. “He probably just lost track of time and left his phone on silent,” Donatello assured them with fake confidence in his voice. “You know how he gets when he draws.”

“Obviously!” Leonardo smiled, his goofy persona shielding his worry. Anxious mother-hen was Raph’s job. “We’re gonna drag his shell home and then Raph can yell at him about never going off by himself ever again for being late.”

“Not till he’s 40.” Raph grumbled out with a small smile. He snatched up his tonfas and led the way out of the lair.

______________________________________________________________________

Mikey groaned softly as he felt the world bubbling into existence around him piece by piece. The first thing he was aware of was the cool rough surface he was laying face down in. Twitching his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists, he rubbed his fingers over the rock-like substance. The box turtle heard whispers which were slowly rising in volume as if someone controlling a soundboard in his head were bringing all the settings up at a steady pace. A loud ringing that made him flinch slightly seemed to only get louder as the voices became clearer. It left a splitting ache in his forehead that Mikey instinctively winced at. As the fog that encased his brain dissipated, he made out the gruff voice that was making casual conversation with a lighter, slightly scratchy voice. They sounded familiar but the orange turtle couldn’t quite place it. 

Curiosity piqued his interest; he peaked open his eyes only to be overwhelmed by the light that was being produced by hundreds of little candles that were spread around what seemed to be a cave. Squeezing his eyes shut again he made a whimpering sound that finally caught the attention of the two voices near him. They silenced themselves, leaving Mikey with a twitch of anxiety in the uncomfortable silence. He squirmed slightly to try and peel himself off the floor as he blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes. With a quick tug, Michelangelo realized his hands were tied together behind his shell. This sent a volt of panic down his spine as Mikey’s eyes shot open wide and took in his surroundings.

The two Foot soldiers were standing a few feet away staring intensely at the turtle. He seemed to be in an underground lair of sorts. There were candles and torches lining uneven rocky ground and a large pedestal in front of Mikey. It had an armor stand placed on top with various armor pieces that made up an unfinished samurai suit. Mikey tugged at his arms again, testing the restraints as he began to squirm and arch his back, trying to free himself with little success.

“Hey, he’s awake.” The Brute nudged the smaller Foot soldier.

“W-where am I?” Mikey stuttered out, eyes captivated back onto the Foot in front of him. “What’s g-going on!?”

“Congratulations!” The Lieutenant boomed, making Mikey flinch in slight fear. “You’ve been found eligible for a position in the Foot Clan.”

“…” The box turtle blinked a few times. “Wh-what…?”

“I know, completely unbelievable, right?” The Brute smiled as the Lieutenant knelt to the floor and continued painting a symbol of sorts onto the floor with an orangish-red ink. He must have been working on it while Mikey was unconscious because the strange figures and lines twisted around the floor where the turtle laid in a perfect circle. “We rarely offer this job to just anyone! You should be honored.”

“Y…. You want me…. To join the Foot Clan?” Mikey would have laughed if being tied up on the floor surrounded by his enemy didn’t scare him so much. Man he really should have just called his brothers.

“We are recruiting you, yes.” The Lieutenant answered as he connected the lines of liquid substance, swirling illegible symbols around the precise borders. “Your athletic abilities have caught our attention and with a little bit of training, we believe you have incredible potential. More competent ninja is exactly what we need around here.”

“I-“ Michelangelo stumbled over his words in his head. He was so shocked and confused. The turtle let out a chuckle, finding the absurd situation slightly amusing. “You guys have tried to kill me and my brothers like... multiple times! I’m not joining your little ninja cult!”

“We figured you might feel that way.” The smile that was plastered on the Lieutenant’s face as he looked up to meet the turtle’s eyes made Mikey’s blood turn to ice.

“I have brought the artifact you requested, sensei!” The Foot recruit barged into the room, her loud, confident voice unmistakable.

Mikey turned his head as far as he could from his position on the floor where he laid on his plastron. The earlier bash to Michelangelo’s head was still affecting him. Every response felt like he was wading through a pool of tar. He tried to get up several times, but his legs wouldn’t respond to the turtle’s wishes. The female recruit handed a small dagger to the Lieutenant. The knife’s blade was in a zig-zag shape, and it had a large green gem on the hilt that seemed energized with mystic power. Seeing the sharp jagged edges of the weapon made the young turtle gulp.

“You see, we are not asking you to join us.” The Lieutenant handled the blade with care as he came to stand in front of the turtle. “We are forcing you to join us.”

“Y-you can’t do that!” Mikey began to frantically struggle against his restraints. Half of his muscles were still unresponsive, and he began to tire quickly. “I will never betray my family!”

The recruit and Brute stepped back slightly as the Foot Lieutenant brought up his hand. Pink energy surged along his palms and as he knelt to the floor, placing his hand onto the mystic circle drawn around Mikey. The markings started to glow a bright magenta as well and illuminated the room brighter than the candles had. Michelangelo began to panic even more, tossing and turning, desperately trying to escape. The Lieutenant shifted his hand to another symbol and a swirling energy seemed to rise from the floor and encase the struggling turtle who let out a small shriek of fright.

Mikey began to hyperventilate. he wasn’t sure what was happening, but it felt as if something had crawled into his mind and began rummaging around. An ache began to arise in his skull as if there was pressure building in his temples. He felt overwhelmed and his only thoughts were of his brothers, praying that by some miracle Raph would be able to track him down by mother-hen instinct alone and beat these bullies up. Donnie would probably have some super cool invention that would take them all out in one hit. He’d probably even let Mikey ride home on his hover shell. Leo would zip right in, rescue the turtle and before the Foot could even realize where the portal had come from, take them all out with a super cool ninjitsu move. He would make jokes with Mikey the whole way home about how lame the Foot clan is and help ease the anxiety Raph must’ve been feeling. As beautiful as Mikey’s fantasy was, nobody came crashing through the door to rescue him. He was alone.

The Lieutenant brought up his other hand, which held the enchanted dagger. It began glowing a bright green, forcing Mikey to look away from it’s overwhelming light. The Foot brought the dagger over his head, in a position ready to strike the small turtle. The Recruit let out an objective yelp before being silenced by a large hand of the Brute that held her back. As much as she despised the turtle she didn’t wish death upon him while restrained and defenseless. Such a death would be dishonorable. Mikey glanced up as well, his eyes widening to saucers as he watched the dagger being raised.

“Raph! Leo!” Mikey cried out in desperation, tears welling up in his eyes. “Donnie, please!”

The Lieutenant chuckled, bringing the dagger down onto the turtle’s head. However, instead of piercing his flesh, the blade seemed to become intangible and phase right into his skin. Despite the lack of an actual wound, a white-hot explosion of pain blistered through the turtle’s skull.

A pained scream erupted from Mikey’s throat, making the recruit flinch. “AAAARRRGHHHHHHHHHH!”

Somehow the mystic light seemed to intensify even more as bursts of magic crackled and fizzled around the ritual. The small turtle’s scream only got louder as it did so.

The Recruit bit her lip, she had felt so much hatred towards him but now? She felt an overwhelming amount of guilt and pity. He was just a child. Hearing him scream like this did not bring her as much satisfaction as she once thought it would.

Mikey had never felt such an intense pressure in his brain. It felt like everything he knew was being shoved to the edges of his mind; compressed into tiny little boxes and sealed away to make room for something new. He tried to hold on to the hope of his brothers. They would free him! Donnie, Leo and…. And someone else…. He couldn’t remember. There was another, he was sure of it. Or had he been mistaken? He drew another blank as a pulse of pain radiated through his body, pulling another scream of agony from his lungs. They would save him! But… who were they? The hope he once felt seemed empty. The thing he had desperately held onto had suddenly disappeared and he could no longer recall exactly what had been holding him together in the first place. He felt completely undone; as if the stitches holding his spirit together came loose and left him in fragments of who he once one. Mikey plummeted away from any thought of familiarity, landing in an inky pool of oblivion. There he sank. And as he was submerged, he no longer fought it. He allowed himself to relax into the warmth of the abyss around him.

In a blazing light of glory, the dagger was peeled from his forehead. It phased back into a solid object and the mystic energy dissipated into tiny sparkling matters of remanence. The turtle fell forward, completely limp as the Lieutenant stood up, a pleased look on his face. A moment of silence fell heavily onto the Foot as the recruit stared in horror. That scream was still echoing in her head, bouncing around in a never-ending crescendo.

“Recruit!” The Lieutenant snapped at her. “Bring the mutant to his new living quarters. And lock the door; I don’t want him wandering around when he wakes up.” 

“Y-Yes, sensei.” The Recruit stuttered out as she kicked back into gear. Running over to the limp box turtle, she stared pitifully at his relaxed expression. There were still tears in his eyes. Shaking away her concern, the recruit put back on her mask of unwavering determination and loyalty to the clan. Swinging the turtle over her shoulder, she jogged to the secret entrance that led up to the Foot’s warehouse.

Screams still echoed in the back of her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Mikey :')
> 
> Another shoutout to Shou, (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

The debt I owe, gotta sell my soul  
'Cause I can't say no, no, I can't say no  
Then my limbs are frozen, my eyes won't close  
And I can't say no, I can't say no

What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me?  
What are you wondering? What do you know?  
Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me?  
When we all fall asleep, where do we go?  
-"Bury a Friend," by Billie Eilish

_______________________________________________________________

Donatello drummed his hands impatiently on the counter as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. He needed more caffeine to stay awake but the longer he stood at the counter waiting, the more his thoughts would drift to his missing brother. It had only been eight hours since the brothers left to check up on their youngest, Michelangelo. With his photographic memory, the softshell could remember last night in vivid detail. He still wasn’t sure if it were a blessing or a curse.

The three turtles had booked it to where Mikey’s GPS was located, only to find an abandoned duffle bag full of spray paint. There were few strokes of fresh paint on the bridge; it looked like Mikey barely even started on his tag. Leo and Raph had spread out around the area, calling out the box turtle’s name, not even caring if it brought too much attention towards themselves. Donnie had knelt down, rummaging through the bag. The snack of banana chips that Raphael had packed was completely untouched. Those were Mikey’s favorite. Digging further, Donatello fished out the orange cell phone. He clicked it on and noticed the flood of notifications on the home screen, Mikey hadn’t seen a single message. Don’s brows furrowed together as he suddenly felt sick with worry.

“Guys!” Leo called out from across the alleyway. “Come here!”

Donnie left the phone on top of the bag and ran over towards the slider, Raphael hot on his heels. Leo was crouching over an object, shell towards his two brothers who couldn’t see what it was. The blue-clad turtle scooped something from the concrete and turned around to face the others, a look of sorrow on his face. It was Mikey’s kusari-fundo.

Raphael hesitated before reaching out and gingerly taking the weapon from Leo’s outstretched hands. “He would never leave this just laying around…”

“I don’t think he ever got to paint his tag either,” Donnie almost whispered. He didn’t want it to be true, but all logic pointed to the fact that Michelangelo had not been here in several hours.

A thick uncomfortable silence settled on them before Raph shook his head, putting on his leader-face. “Don, you call April, see if Mikey’s stopped by at all tonight.” He pointed towards the softshell who nodded. “Leo and I are gonna split up and patrol the surrounding area, see if he wandered off a little too far.” Leo nodded as well, a determined look on his face. “We’ll rendezvous back at the lair in half an hour and tell Dad what’s goin’ on.”

With a final group nod, they all split up in different directions; Donnie grabbed the duffle bag on his way. He showed up at April’s apartment, knocking on her window after she failed to answer her phone. Donatello couldn’t blame her, it was almost 2 A.M. on a school night. She had opened the window with a deadly look in her eyes.

“This better be important, Donatello,” she growled, half asleep.

“We can’t find Mikey,” the purple twin blurted out. “I needed to check here for him, just in case.”

This immediately woke April up as her aggressive stare turned into one of concern and shock. “W-what? How long has he been gone? Let me just get my jacket real quick and we can-“

Donnie stopped her before she could run off to get dressed. “No, it’s okay. Leo and Raph are already looking. You have school in a couple of hours. I really don’t want to keep you up.”

“School can wait, Don!” She ignored him, throwing her green jacket on over her pajamas, and pulled her thick curls into a ponytail. “This is more important than learning about old white guys who founded this stupid country.”

Donatello tried to come up with another excuse to stop April, not wanting to disrupt her personal life, but couldn’t think of one as she shoved him aside and climbed out onto the fire escape with him. He gave a rare thankful smile, grateful that she was coming to help. April was like another sibling to them. She would travel through hell and back for any one of them in a heartbeat.

After thirty minutes of searching to no avail, the group met back up at the lair. Splinter had scurried into the room with a bit of concern towards their unusually late adventure topside. Raph had been the one to explain the current circumstances of their lost brother. Their father had been understandably frantic. The brothers had already made so many enemies, it was hard to narrow down a single suspect to Mikey’s disappearance. They already ruled out Mikey running off by himself. The family knew their resident box turtle quite well and it wasn’t like him to run off alone without saying anything.

“Big Mama has her grimy claws written all over this,” Splinter had sneered out. The boys and April never did figure out why Master Splinter had been so adamant about the spider lady that the turtles had only told him tales of.

“It’s gotta be the Foot!” Leo claimed.

“Baron Draxum’s been a little quiet recently… Too quiet,” Donatello added.

Even with all their main enemies listed off, there was still the possibility of it being a rogue mutant who wasn’t too fond of them, such as Hypno or Meat Sweats.

The Hamato family spent the remaining early morning hours coming up with a plan to investigate each lead. April had to tap out after a few hours, saying she had to be at school soon. The group had stayed up all night and decided it would be best to rest during the day when it was too dangerous to go topside. They would resume their search after the sun went down. Splinter had urged his sons to go rest, but Donnie still stood in the kitchen waiting for another pot of bitter caffeine juice.

The pot beeping brought Donnie out of his head as he pulled the glass pitcher from the machine and filled his mug. He relished in the warmth before taking a few sips. He didn’t need sleep, not while his baby brother was still MIA. Donatello pulled out the orange phone from his belt and stared at it in deep thought. There was no way to track Mikey. He already tried New York’s security cameras and unsurprisingly none of them pointed in the direction of the alley under the bridge. The only thing they could do was track down any known enemies and cross them off the suspect list one by one. Donnie groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. That all took so much time. He wished there were some sort of machine or invention he could use to instantly find Mikey. He knew machines, he could save Mikey with machines. But of course his most confident skillset was completely useless in this situation, filling the softshell with a feeling of helplessness.

A woosh of the curtains that acted as the door to the kitchen caught Donnie’s attention as his blue twin stepped into the room. They looked at each other, not saying a word. That was something Donatello had always appreciated about his brother. As contrastingly different as they were, they never needed to communicate to understand each other. Maybe it was just twin magic, but it was comforting at times. Leo grabbed a cup of water and stood next to his tech-savvy brother.

“We’ll find him, Don,” Leo reassured him.

“I know.”

_______________________________________________________________

The Foot recruit walked lazily down the long corridor of rooms. Her footsteps echoing loudly through the silence. She had just finished her initiation ceremony. Pride was projecting from her every movement as she stood confidently, a look of contentment on her face. She brought up a damp rag and wiped away the ceremonial ink that had been plastered onto her face in the shape of a foot. She was finally an official member of the Foot Clan… the thing she had been dreaming of since the age of seven. The recruit was on her way to her room when a loud thud made her stop in her tracks. Looking directly at the closed door to her left, she recognized it as the room the turtle ninja had been locked in last night. She mulled over the difficult feelings of confliction she had towards the turtle and the forceful method of recruitment before shoving them down, promising herself not to think about it. The recruit hesitated, reaching out towards the door.

After a few moments of debating whether or not she should enter, a few whimpers had projected from inside the room. Some sort of instinct clicked within the recruit and she unlocked the door, pushing it open slowly.

The room was small, the same size as her own. It had a single cot pushed up against the corner and a chest across from the room, for any personal belongings the Foot soldier may have. Usually people who devoted their life to the clan adopted a minimalistic ideology. The recruit herself only had a few items: tokens of accomplishments or memories from her past life. Glancing once over the dark room, her eyes met those of another creature, huddled in the corner behind the chest. His mask and gear had been removed, along with the many colorful stickers plastered over his shell. It was weird seeing the bouncy energetic foe so… reclusive and bare.

“H-Hi…” She stuttered out, feeling stupid for entering in the first place. What was she doing? “You’re awake.”

The turtle blinked up at her. He didn’t seem scared. His eyes were filled with confusion and curiosity. “Where am I?”

Remembering her Senseis’ plan of recruitment, she played along. The Lieutenant would be furious with her if she messed this up. “You’re home.”

“…Home?” He questioned. The turtle’s head had a dull throb that seemed to be in sync with his heartbeat. He kept trying to remember what had happened to him, but any events before he had awoken in a dark room alone seemed to escape his memory. He felt a tinge of emptiness, as if he were forgetting something important, but anytime he chased these feelings and searched his head for answers it made the ache worsen. This room didn’t feel familiar. Wasn’t home supposed to be somewhere you felt safe and comfortable? He figured he would probably recognize his home. But at the same time any attempts to confirm this information made his head hurt. He couldn’t remember what home looked like. Maybe this was home.

“Do you… remember anything?” The recruit almost punched herself for how awkward she was making this interaction. She had to confirm her theory of the mind wipe ritual. Surely the great and powerful Foot Clan wouldn’t stoop so low as to brainwash someone into a mindless puppet. That would be dishonorable.

“I… I don’t know,” the turtle answered truthfully. He felt ghosts of memories in his head filled with blank faces and unrecognizable voices.

“What about your name?” She walked fully into the room and crouched down to the turtle’s level, while keeping some distance between them. “What’s your name?

“Michelangelo,” he answered impulsively, startling himself at the confidence in his voice. That was his name right? It had to be. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

“That’s a nice name…” the recruit answered. She felt a tinge of guilt realizing that she had never learned his name before. But she squashed it down, refusing to recognize such weak emotions. This turtle was her enemy, she should not care about pleasantries such as names. The recruit hardened her heart as she stood up suddenly. “Come. Sensei will want to see you now that you’ve regained consciousness.”

“Sensei?” the turtle questioned, rising to shaking feet. He felt uncertain but didn’t know what else to do. While the lady in front of him seemed strict, she also had an aura of safety to her that Michelangelo clung onto.

“Yes, he is one of my- …OUR teachers.” She corrected herself as she led the turtle from the small room towards the dojo where her Sensei usually resided during the daytime. “We are the Foot Clan. An allegiance of ninja pledged to serving our master, Shredder.”

“Foot Clan…” The turtle mumbled over his words, hoping to spark some sense of recognition in them.

The recruit led him down a dimmed hallway that led to a screen door, being guarded by two men in strange baggy clothing. The recruit and two men bowed to each other before the doors were pulled open with a soft “shhhhh” of bamboo sliding against the floor. Michelangelo followed the recruit into a dimly lit room, candles lit in the center where a humanoid figure sat. The turtle’s attention was caught on the flame that danced around the top of the man’s head.

The recruit bowed, announcing her presence. “Your turtle warrior has awoken, Sensei.”

The box turtle stared in confusion, debating on whether or not he should repeat the strange bowing motion. Before he could decide, his head instinctively snapped to the side as a shuriken whizzed by his face. He quickly turned towards the weapon’s source, the flaming head man.

“Sensei-” The recruit made a distressed noise but before she could finish, the purple-ish human had launched himself at the turtle, a kunai in each hand.

Michelangelo was suddenly filled with panic and adrenaline. His body seemed to completely take over, leaving his mind two steps behind as he ducked and dodged the swinging attacker with grace. A punch was thrown to the turtle’s torso, which was blocked and reciprocated. The Lieutenant ducked under the punch and dropped to the ground, swinging his legs out to trip the young turtle. Mikey flipped out of the way with a backward handspring, kicking the Foot’s jaw as he did so. When he landed with perfect balance, it finally clicked how he had defended himself so eloquently without even intending to do so. He stared down at his hands and then back up at the flaming-head man who was no longer advancing to attack.

“Congratulations.” The Lieutenant clapped his hands together. “You’ve passed your first test.”

“Test?” Michelangelo repeated. He thought over the limited information that the recruit had given him. “Are you… sensei?”

“That would be me, yes.” He smiled; it sent a shiver down Mikey’s spine. “We have much to discuss, young one. I’m sure you have many questions.”

Mikey opened his mouth to respond but settled on a brief nod instead. He wasn’t sure if he could trust this strange man… but the nice lady did, and he trusted her for some reason. He wanted answers more than anything, so for the sake of learning more about this unfamiliar world he awakened in, he would listen.

“Recruit, wait outside for us,” the Lieutenant ordered. She reluctantly bowed again, this time quickly, before scurrying out of the dojo.

The flaming-head man sat again, cross-legged, and offered his hand out for Michelangelo to sit as well. The turtle lowered himself to the ground, mimicking the other’s position. It took every bit of will-power the turtle had to not start rapid-fire asking questions. He was so confused and every interaction he’s had since awakening only led to more confusion and uncertainty. Michelangelo barely had time to process the fact that he couldn’t even remember who HE was, much less the people around him. It was overwhelming, and he almost wished that the lady, “Recruit” as she was apparently called, had stayed.

“I’m sure you’re confused, little one,” the Lieutenant rasped out, folding his hands in his lap with a proud look on his face. “But I assure you, you are where you belong.”

“And where is here exactly?” the turtle questioned.

“Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!
> 
> Sorry for this one is kinda short. It's not my best work. I was seeing if I could possibly merge chapter 4 and 5, but it felt a bit awkward and interrupted the flow of the story so I'm just gonna keep them separate.


	5. Chapter 5

I count gates and numbers  
And play the guessing game  
It's just the place that changes  
The rest is still the same  
But I've got memories and  
Travel like gypsies in the night

And a thousand times I've seen this road  
A thousand times

I've got no roots  
But my home was never on the ground  
I've got no roots  
But my home was never on the ground  
-Alice Merton, "No Roots"

______________________________________________________________________

The recruit shivered, clenching her fists in a bit of anger. After leaving her Sensei alone with the turtle, she stuck around by the screen door. Curiosity got the best of her, and she wanted to know what the Lieutenant planned to do with the child. She listened in as the Foot soldier had told Michelangelo how the turtle was a yokai who was birthed into the Foot Clan. She listened to lie after lie tumble out of the Lieutenant’s mouth. The Foot had told the turtle that he was being relocated to the New York headquarters when he suffered a terrible accident caused by enemies of the Foot that had apparently given him amnesia.

“…Will I… ever get my memories back?” the turtle asked in a pained voice.

“It’s hard to say,” the Lieutenant answered with ease. “It’s possible, but unlikely.”

The recruit had to stop herself from punching the wall next to her. Why were they lying to him? Why were they going through so much trouble just to recruit this weak child? They were putting so much unnecessary effort into him! Why not just kill the turtle while he is vulnerable and be rid of their enemy entirely?! The recruit almost felt guilty for her wish of death upon Michelangelo, but above all she felt jealous. The Foot had never bent their backs over for her. If she did not twist and form herself to the exact mold that the Foot expected of her, she would simply be thrown out or punished. They were treating someone who was a former enemy with more importance than she had ever received. The recruit had poured her sweat, blood and tears into the clan since she was seven years old. This blatant favoritism had her feeling more hatred for the turtle than she ever had felt before.

The shoji screen door behind her slid open, causing the recruit to jump a little before turning around to face her sensei, Michelangelo by his side. Looking at him filled her with a tinge of rage.

“Recruit, you will be in charge of Michelangelo until he becomes familiar with his new surroundings,” the Lieutenant ordered, gesturing to the turtle standing next to him.

“What?!” She huffed in offense. How dare they treat her like a babysitter? She was an official ninja of the Foot Clan! “But sensei, I-“

The Lieutenant cut her off with a raise of his hand. “I trust you’ll keep an eye on him?”

The recruit paused for a moment before sighing in defeat. “Hai, sensei…”

Michelangelo walked out of the screen door as the Lieutenant shut it again, leaving both the recruit and the box turtle in the hallway.

The recruit groaned, pulling a hand down her face, before walking off, the turtle right behind her. Michelangelo followed her silently down a few corridors before she stopped, turning into a small room that looked a lot like the one he remembered waking up in. The mutant only got a glimpse of it, but there were red bedsheets and several articles of clothing laying on the floor. Posters of various rock bands littered the walls and sharp weapons glimmered from where they were mounted.

“You can sit out here.” She held out a hand, stopping the turtle from entering the room.

“Sensei said you were gonna… show me around?” Michelangelo questioned, tilting his head.

“There’s a cafeteria, dojo, a bunch of dorms, and an underground ceremonial cave. It’s really not that hard to figure it out for yourself,” she listed impatiently. “I’m pretty sure there’s a video tour on YouTube or something. Just look it up.”

Michelangelo noted that he remembered what YouTube was. “On what? I… don’t really… have a phone…” He shrugged awkwardly. The recruit was the only familiar thing he had, and Mikey wasn’t ready to give that up just yet.

The recruit groaned again, banging her head against the door in annoyance. “Fine, you can come in, but be quiet, I have things to do.”

She moved to the side, letting the turtle in. He stood in the middle of the room, soaking in his surroundings.

“Here, go nuts.” The recruit handed Michelangelo her cell phone, which had already been unlocked, to keep him distracted. “You can sit over there quietly until patrol briefing.”

The recruit sat on her cot, and pulled open a pink laptop; it looked like there had been numerous stickers on the front that she had desperately tried to scratch off. Michelangelo scooted over to the floor in front of a large chest that looked identical to the one in the room he first awoke in. Leaning his shell against the piece of furniture, he quickly found all the Foot training tutorials on YouTube, absorbing all the information as the cheesy films explained the Clan and their purpose.

Getting bored of the long explanations of mystic energy video he was currently viewing, Michelangelo looked back up to the recruit who sat cross-legged and bent over, typing melodically on the laptop.

“Did I know you before… you know?” he asked, breaking the silence while motioning to his head to signal that he was referring to his amnesia.

“We crossed paths once or twice,” she answered truthfully, not even glancing up from her screen.

“Were we… friends?” he prodded again.

“No,” the recruit responded, tapping a little harder on her keyboard in annoyance.

“Oh…” The box turtle leaned back again and allowed silence to fill the room again for a few moments. “Do you know if I had any friends?”

The recruit finally stopped typing and glared over at the noisy turtle.

The box turtle lowered his head into his shell slightly in embarrassment. “Right, sorry… The Lieutenant said I was from another sector… You probably don’t know anything about me.”

The recruit went back to her computer leaving Michelangelo alone to his thoughts again.

“What about family? Did I have a family?” he questioned after a few minutes.

“UGHHHH-” The recruit slammed the laptop closed as the turtle jumped in response. She brought her hands to her face, in a praying position, muttering requests for patience. After letting out a breath, she turned to the turtle with a calmer expression. “You know what, why don’t we find something for you to do, hm?”

The slight anxiety washed away as Michelangelo sprang up in anticipation. “Really? Like what?”

“If you’re a part of the Foot then you need a uniform,” she stated. Seeing the turtle without all his normal gear seemed… wrong. He looked naked in a way.

Michelangelo glanced down at himself suddenly feeling exposed. Despite only remembering himself without clothing, it felt weird now that she pointed it out.

“Come on.” The recruit waved as she walked out the door.

Walking towards the direction of the dojo, the pair passed several Foot ninja. Michelangelo studied their clothing as they passed. None of them wore the exact same uniform but they were all a dark purple color with orange and red accents. Opening the door to a room not far from the dojo, the recruit stepped in first as Michelangelo followed.

He let out a small gasp and marveled at the amount of uniforms and various gear lying around the large closet-like room. “Take whatever you like,” she offered, motioning to the racks of Japanese-styled clothing.

Michelangelo walked over to a rack and started shifting through the various outfits before coming across a kimono jacket with voluminous sleeves and an orange obi. He pulled it off the hanger, feeling a burst of creativity explode in his brain as he imagined all the possibilities of the kimono. “Could I… tweak this kimono a little?” Mikey asked, glancing back at the recruit who was leaning against the wall, playing with a kunai.

“Sure, knock yourself out,” she replied. There wasn’t really a dress code for the clan, more of a strict color palette.

Michelangelo let out a sinister giggle as he brought the kimono over to the island in the middle of the room which had several tape measurers, fabric scissors, and sewing materials scattered about.

Seeing he was well distracted, the recruit let out a content sigh, moving towards the door. “I’ll be in the dojo,” she announced, leaving the preteen to his own devices.

The recruit had busied herself with running through a few katas while she waited. Thoughts of her new shadow crept into her mind as she mulled over the situation once again.

She didn’t feel as much hatred as she had earlier. The recruit was more upset at her commanding officers than the turtle himself. It wasn’t Michelangelo’s fault that they were treating him with favor. The turtle himself wasn’t that bad… He had a child-like innocence to him that painfully reminded her of someone else.

Shadowed memories of laughter, kissing scraped knees and walking to school came flooding into her mind.

“Come on, CJ! We’re gonna be late!” his high-pitched voice rang through the recruit’s head making her freeze in the middle of her kata.

The recruit shook her head, trying to wave the memories away. It was too painful to think about, not here, not now. It would only make her miss him more.

“What do you think?” A loud voice snapped the recruit out of her misery as she glanced up to the turtle who had barged into the dojo.

He had taken the kimono from earlier and cut the half below the obi off, as well as the left sleeve. The turtle also must have found the many paints stored in the room because he had painted flames above the obi as well as on the tips of the right sleeve. Michelangelo had wrapped black sports tape around each of his limbs, beginning at his shoulders and thighs while stopping at his fingertips and toes. A black mask covered his beak and mouth, muffling his voice but only slightly. With another touch of creative flair, Mikey had red painted over his eyelids like eyeliner, with strokes underneath his eyes and two dots where his eyebrows would be.

“Wow…” the recruit muttered, a tad speechless. She had never seen another Foot ninja put so much personality into their uniform before. Usually people just took whatever was most convenient or comfortable. “It looks… amazing.”

“You think so?” He smiled proudly. He had realized while making his outfit how much he enjoyed painting. Figuring out a piece of his identity filled him with excitement. “I thought maybe the flames were a little too much.”

“It… really suits you,” the recruit admitted. She felt a smile grace her face. “There’s just… one tiny detail missing.”

“What? What is it?!” Mikey suddenly pleaded, feeling a desperate need to make his new identity complete.

The recruit smiled even wider as she led him to a large wardrobe looking cabinet. Opening it, it was filled with traditional weapons of all kinds. Different types of swords, spears, and staffs lined the walls with pockets of throwing stars and kunai that were connected to the doors. “Take your pick.”

“Woah…” Michelangelo beamed, glancing over the shiny blades. His eyes were caught on the nunchaku for a few moments, a spark of recognition in his eyes. The turtle reached out to grab them before hesitating. They didn’t click exactly right… Glancing over to the right of the nunchaku, a glimmer of a curved blade made something jump inside his heart. He picked up the kusarigama chain and studied the weapon. Its blade was curved in a circular shape and the thick handle was wrapped in a red fabric. The tips of the weapon were gold plating. A thick chain connected to the but of the handle. Letting the rolled-up chain unfold, the turtle noticed a heavy golden weight attached to the end.

As he stared at the weapon, the recruit closed the cabinet knowing Michelangelo already made his decision. “Well, wanna give it a test run?” She crouched into a defensive stance, motioning for him to attack.

“But…. I don’t even know how to use this thing…” Michelangelo stared with uncertainty.

“Just follow your gut,” the recruit encouraged. “Trust me.”

The box turtle gave the chain a few test swings, holding tightly to the handle while the weighted end flailed in the circular motion by his side. Just like before, when sensei had attacked, he felt some sort of instinct take over, as if he had done this before dozens of times.

Without warning, Mikey planted a foot forward and launched the weighted end of the chain towards the recruit. She easily sidestepped the attack and rushed towards the box turtle. Michelangelo ducked as the Foot recruit threw a punch towards his face and he used the blunt end of the kusarigama blade to jab at her gut while simultaneously pulling back the discarded chain into a hazardous spin. The recruit jumped back a little, hand resting on her gut as she grabbed a spear that was mounted on the wall, giving it a good spin before returning to a wide stance.

“Not bad…” she commented with a smile. “Let’s see if you can keep it up!”

The recruit rushed again jutting the spear towards the turtle who used the spinning chain to deflect each time. She gave the spear another spin before jumping up, raising the blunt end of the weapon to whack down on Michelangelo. Just as she was swinging it down, the bladed end of the kusarigama hooked itself around the spear’s handle and with a twist and pull from the small turtle’s body, the recruit was sent flying across the room. The situation gave her an intense feeling of déjà vu as she remembered how Michelangelo had previously thrown her over the bridge in the alleyway in a similar fashion. Prepared for such a move this time, the recruit twisted her body midair and landed on the wall with her feet. Crouching to gain momentum, she pushed off the wall again and was sent flying towards the unprepared mutant.

Michelangelo yelped as she crashed into him, sending the two rolling on the floor, both of their weapons discarded. They both began to laugh as their battle turned into a playful wrestling match that the recruit quickly gained the upper hand in.

“Okay, I yield! I yield!” Michelangelo cried between bursts of laughter, tapping his hand on the floor.

The recruit made a dramatic victorious cry of, “AH HAH!” as she pumped her fist into the air where she sat on top of the smaller turtle’s shell. After she was done gloating, the recruit slid off the young mutant, gracefully bringing herself to a standing position and holding out her hand to Michelangelo.

The box turtle took the hand with a smile and was pulled to his feet. “You were amazing, uh-” Michelangelo suddenly paused, stuttering, and tapping his head in slight embarrassment. “I, uh…. Just realized I don’t know your name…”

The recruit blinked. Usually no one bothered to learn her name… With a clan as big as this, it was unlikely to know everyone on a personal level. Unless you were close, nobody referred to each other on a first name basis; just the ranking they were under. “It’s… Cassandra actually… Cassandra Jones.”

“That’s a pretty name!” The young turtle suddenly gleamed. “It’s kinda formal though…. You mind if I give you a nickname? How’s about Casey? You look like a Casey to me!”

“That’s a lot coming from someone named ‘Michelangelo’!” Cassandra couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Talk about formal names!”

"You know what, just for that I’m calling you Casey whether you like it or not.” Michelangelo gave a spiteful smile as Casey let out a mock gasp of betrayal.

The two continued to playfully bicker when they were interrupted by a Foot ninja barreling into the dojo.

“Patrol briefing starts in ten minutes,” the masked ninja announced before leaving just as quickly as he entered.

Cassandra seemed slightly disappointed but snapped into her professional persona as she hooked the spear back onto his wall mount. “Come, Michelangelo,” she commanded as the turtle rolled up his kusarigama chain and attached the weapon onto his obi.

The two were walking briskly down the hall side-by-side, contrasting to when they had entered these halls with the recruit leading an uncertain turtle behind her. Something about Michelangelo felt different from when he had awoken that morning. With his new outfit and weapon to call his own, he seemed more… confident.

When the pair entered the briefing room, all eyes turned to them. Rumors had quickly spread throughout the clan how one of the mutant turtles had joined their ranks. Of course, along with that rumor, word was that anyone who even mentioned anything about it to the turtle would be dealt with by the Brute himself. Not wanting to be on the opposite end of those fists, the Foot ninjas kept to whispers and private conversations about the matter, avoiding the mutant at all costs.

Casey led Michelangelo away from the crowd and stood in a corner.

“What’s patrol normally like?” The turtle fidgeted with curiosity.

“We’ve been tasked with collecting the pieces of the Dark Armor,” the recruit explained even though the tutorial videos should have already given him this basic information. “We’re usually assigned into city sections to investigate any mystic related incidents. We won’t have a coordinated mission until the location of an artifact is confirmed.”  
Michelangelo nodded. He felt a pang of familiarity with the idea of a patrol. From his conversation with Sensei, the box turtle had gathered that he had been doing this for a couple of years. Thinking back on his brief exchange with the flame-man, he had a growing feeling of anticipation in his chest. Mikey was told that he would resume his training tomorrow. This all seemed so new and exciting despite the fact that this had apparently been his life since he was born. Having a purpose made him feel better about his lack of memories.

The box turtle really hoped that someday he would be able to remember his past life, the gaping hole in his memories left him feeling slightly insecure, like there was a part of him he would never be able to rediscover. But in this moment, Michelangelo also felt content. If he were never to regain his memories, he would at least still have his Clan and his newfound friend.

After all, if there were something more important than his duties to the Clan, he would have remembered it by now… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was curious to Mikey's Foot Clan design, I have a ref of him here on my instagram! https://www.instagram.com/p/CFv9xH_p10h/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
> 
> Shoutout to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

I watch the work of my kin bold and boyful  
Toying somewhere between love and abuse  
Calling to join them the wretched and joyful  
Shaking the wings of their terrible youths  
Freshly disowned in some frozen devotion  
No more alone or myself could I be  
Lurched like a stray to the arms that were open  
No shortage of sordid, no protest from me  
-"Angel of Small Death," by Hozier

______________________________________________________________________

The moment the sun disappeared over the horizon, a large rounded vehicle emerged from a faux brick wall that split open in preparation for the tank’s arrival. April had run out of school the second the final bell rang through the building and headed straight down to her second family’s home in the sewers. After searching all last night into the early hours of the morning, the turtles pleaded for her to rest before they searched again. She reluctantly agreed, but if she had spent that time instead in the garage with Donnie, working on the turtle-tank, nobody needed to know.

While the others were pressuring her to sleep, Donnie welcomed her into the sanctuary of work. He and April were a lot alike, and he knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Working at least gave the illusion of progress in their search for Michelangelo. So he let her dig her hands inside the hood of the tank, making oil changes and replacing wires. The two worked in mostly silence aside from a request for a specific tool every now and then.

When the clock finally struck 7:00, they both barreled out of the garage, Leo, Raph, and Splinter waiting in the main room.

“As soon as we get topside, we split up.” Raph restated the plan they had constructed last night. “April and Donnie are patrolling around New York. Look for any suspicious mutants and keep an eye out for the Foot.”

Donatello and April both nodded sharply, still wiping excess oil and grease off their hands.

“Leo and I are headed to the mystic city to check on Draxum.” Raphael pointed to Leon who had his sword propped up against his shoulder, a smug look on his face. “Pops is going to Big Mama’s hotel to search the grounds for any sign of Mikey.” The hotel was so big, Donnie argued that it would be best if they saved it for last so the group could search together, but Splinter insisted that he be the one to investigate.

“Remember this is recon only. If you find any clues, call the others and we regroup immediately.” Raph held his phone out in demonstration. “We do this as a family, and we find him together… Any questions?” He waited as everyone shook their heads with a determined look. “Good. Mad Dogs roll out!”

The turtle tank jerked to a stop, parallel parked on the side of the road. Before Donnie could even put the tank into park, Splinter had shot up from his seat and pulled the lever that released one of the motorbikes from the side.

“Stay safe, my children.” Splinter hesitated before stepping out of the tank, glancing over his family. “I love you all.” The rat hopped out of the tank and a loud rumble of an engine revving off down the street echoed through the vehicle.

Leo and Raph had pulled themselves from their seats as well, walking over to the side entrance that their father had just left from.

“You guys stay safe!” Raph ordered, worried about letting any one of them out of his sight again. “Call us if you need anything.”

“Same goes for you, big guy!” April gave a thumbs up while the blue and red-clad brothers jumped down onto the pavement and disappeared into the shadows.

Raph and Leo quickly scaled the nearest building, pausing slightly on the roof as they watched the tank speed off. Moving towards the center of the roof, Leo pulled out his sword and gave it a few test swings.

“You sure you got this Leo? We could always just go ask Senor Hueso for-“ Raph was cut off by an offended look and a swing from Leo’s odachi.

“Ye of little faith,” Leo joked as he spun his sword, swiping it through the air in a crisscrossing motion. A fizzle of blue electricity erupted from the air, swirling into a glowing portal. “I’ve been practicing big bro!”

Raph gave a small laugh of relief as he stepped towards the portal. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

They both stepped into the glowing abyss and found themselves standing on a roof overlooking the strange terrain of the hidden city. Turning to their right, the turtles saw the long bridge connected to the small island where Baron Draxum’s laboratory stood. There were bits and pieces missing from the walls. It looked like the lab was still under construction from the turtle’s last visit.

“Look!” Leonardo pointed towards a group of yokai who seemed to be loading crates full of strange creatures from a vehicle into Draxum’s lab. “Someone’s restocking their lab rats.”

“Must’ve run out of cute dog-things to experiment on,” Raph sneered.

“If he’s gathering more mutants, Mikey might be in there!” Leo’s eyes suddenly widened in realization.

“Leo, we don’t know that for sure.” Raph rubbed the back of his neck in a display of uncertainty. “As much as I would love to find Mikey, we both know he’s a lot stronger than those tiny things Draxum finds scurrying in the gutters.” The yokai alchemist had a tendency to capture easy prey for his science experiments. Taking a wildcard like Mikey would probably be more hassle than it’s worth, especially while his lab is still being rebuilt. Raph mostly just didn’t want to believe Mikey had been in the hands of Draxum. It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours yet, but he could only imagine the horrors that scientist would have in store for his captives.

“Well let’s stop wasting time and find out.” Leo sheathed his odachi before jumping off their current hiding place on the roof, leaving Raph behind.

“Leo! Stealth!” Raph yelled in a harsh whisper before jumping off after his younger brother. He initially wanted to pair Donnie with Leo to explore Draxum’s lab because Don would be able to hack into the computer easily and they needed Leo’s portal to travel between the Hidden City, but thinking over it again Raph wanted to keep a closer eye on Leo. Raphael knew his brother tended to rush tasks and remain unfocused when something was bothering him. Leo needed someone to watch his back extra closely because the slider would forget to do so himself. Raphael also hoped to get some one-on-one time with his second-to-youngest brother. Leo had been making an excessive amount of jokes and put on a desperate façade to act normally. Everyone could see through it, but nobody had the courage to approach Leo about it yet. Raph understood why. Their youngest was missing without a trace, Leonardo had every right to be upset or anxious.

Leo and Raph snuck up behind the large truck that heavily resembled a snail. After watching the small cages of mutants being loaded into a storage bay for a few moments, the pair crept around a small stack of crates to remain unseen from the few yokai workers. A small mutant resembling a pterodactyl of sorts started ferociously clawing at its cage, letting out high pitched shrieks that were loud enough to make someone’s ears bleed. The yokai rushed over to try and shush the mutant which gave the turtles an opening to sneak inside.

They rushed past all the boxes and mutants, glancing for any sign of a turtle before going through a door that connected to the main laboratory. It was all under obvious construction as yellow and black striped tape encircled a large cylindrical object in the middle of the circular room. It appeared to be the container that contained the oozequitoes. Raph couldn’t help the proud smile that crept onto his face remembering how Mikey completely obliterated it with his newfound mystic powers.

Leo and Raph took a quick glance around the empty room. It was extremely quiet except for the occasional noise that came from the loading bay where mutants were still being tossed around. Leo pointed towards a hallway on their left, which is where they began their search.

Clinging to the shadows, the pair of turtles swept the entire lair from top to bottom, looking in every possible closet or corner. Surprisingly enough there was no sign of Draxum anywhere. The two weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“I think we should search that dungeon again. We might have missed an extra cell or something,” Leo mumbled as they crept down a dark silent hallway.

“Leo, we looked there twice already.” Raph stopped momentarily, turning towards his brother with a sympathetic look. “He’s not here.”

“We have to search again!” Leo sneered. “This place is huge, Raph. If we give up now then we won’t come back until every other lead has been checked off the list. We can’t leave him here for that long!”

“We’re not leaving him here. He hasn’t been here. Draxum doesn’t-” Raph was cut off by a loud voice echoing through the hallways which had both turtles up in the rafters before either could blink.

“The shipment is late.” The authoritative voice sounded like it was coming from the main circular room. Leo and Raph nodded before silently running towards the voice.

“Yes boss, we already gave them a bad review AND made a call informing them how unhappy we were with their service, demanding coupons for compensation,” a small gargoyle hummed out as he fluttered in front of the alchemist.

“Draxum…” Leonardo hissed under his breath as the two turtles peaked out from the hallway connecting to the raised platform in the circular room.

Raph gave a worried glance between Leo and the yokai scientist. “Leo, we should go before he spots us.”

“Oh he’ll spot us alright.” Leo started pulling his sword from its sheath. “After his face becomes acquainted with my fist.”

“Leo, don’t you dare,” Raph growled, but was too late as the slider ran out of their hiding place and jumped from the platform ledge.

“DRAXUM!” Leo announced himself as his foot made contact with the yokai’s back, sending them both tumbling to the ground. The gargoyles both gasped before fluttering backwards away from the chaos.

“What the-?!” Draxum grumbled, peeling himself from the floor to glare at the slider standing before him. “A turtle?”

Raph slapped a palm onto his face, dragging it down slowly with a low groan.

Draxum couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from his throat. “You dare trespass into my domain?!”

“Where the hell are you keeping my brother?!” Leo spat, adjusting his stance slightly.

“What are you talking about, mutant scum?” Draxum opened his claws, purple balls of condensed vine seeds were gripped between his fingers in preparation of an attack.

“Michelangelo. Where. Is. He?” Leo gave a harsh pause between each word. His eyes narrowed in hatred.

“I don’t keep tabs on you or your sorry excuse for warrior brothers,” Draxum hissed with a venomous tone. “Do I look like a child-sitter to you?”

Leonardo growled and finally shot forward, sword in preparation to strike. The alchemist also raised his claws, preparing to bury the seeds into the floor. Neither got a chance to strike however as the snapping turtle tackled his blue-clad brother to the ground.

“LEO, PORTAL, NOW.” Raph gripped a hand on Leo’s shoulder, a demanding look on his face.

The sliders eyes widened in a bit of shock. Raph never got aggressive with them unless it was extremely important. Not even questioning his older brother, Leo slashed his weapon through the air, creating a portal. He barely had time to look back at the surprised yokai scientist when a large green hand pushed the slider through the glowing vortex.

“woAH-“ Leonardo tumbled onto a random roof in New York City, giving himself a moment to catch his bearings before sitting back up to watch his older brother step through the portal before it closed.

“What was that for?!” Leo snapped feeling anger rise in his chest. “Why’d you stop me?!”

“Because we don’t need to waste our time fighting Baron Draxum,” Raph argued with an assertive tone.

“What? You don’t trust me to take him out?!” The slider sprung to his feet and thrust a finger into the plastron of his older brother. “You don’t think I can make good decisions anymore?!”

Raph stepped back in surprise. Leo wasn’t a temperamental turtle. He rarely lost his cool, if ever. “You know I don’t think that, Leo! Where’s all this coming from?”

“I-… it’s not-” Leo stuttered, finding his anger washing away without anything left to fuel it. “I know you don’t… It’s just-” The slider looked out across the landscape of New York City. “I don’t know.”

The red-clad leader stepped forward, placing a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “What’s buggin’ you, man?”

Leo looked back up at Raph before downward again at the floor. “I messed up. This is my fault,” he muttered, disgust seeping in his voice.

“What are you talking about? You couldn’t have done anything to stop this, Leo.”

“But I’m the one who pressured you into letting Mikey go topside alone!” Leonardo choked out, looking back towards his older brother with glossy eyes. “If I hadn’t forced you to let him go this wouldn’t be happening right now!”

“Woah, woah, woah…” Raphael waved a hand, stopping the odachi-wielder’s rant. “You didn’t force me to do nothin’!”

“But-”

“No, Leo. If anything I rely on you to make sure I’m not being too overbearing,” Raph encouraged him. “I know I can be a micromanager and overprotective. If I had my way all the time, nobody would be allowed out of the lair without having pillows duct taped to their limbs.”

Leo let out a small laugh, rubbing at his eyes. “Like Donnie with his shell when we were little…”

“Donnie would have to wear THREE pillows plus his battle shell.” Raph gave a joking nudge which made Leo smile even wider. “What I’m trying to say is, nobody could’ve predicted this would happen. In fact, it could’ve happened to any one of us! Donnie goes topside by himself all the time. Would it have been Pop’s fault then for letting Donnie go up alone?”

“What? Of course not!” Leo quickly answered before realizing what Raph was doing. “Oh…”

“Exactly.” Raphael slung an arm around the sliders shoulder and pulled him into a tight side-hug. “Which means this isn’t your fault either.”

“Thanks…” Leo leaned into his older brother’s side, staring out over the city, taking in the bright colors and never-ending traffic. “And… sorry for… whatever that was back there. I just… really want to find him.”

“Me too, little brother… Me too.”

______________________________________________________________________

Donnie and April had parked the turtle-tank near a museum, where they planned to meet up with the others at midnight. The two had been driving around and questioning stray mutants all night, but to no avail. April cracked open another energy drink and drowned the caffeine packed beverage before Donnie could advise against it. She nearly choked in surprise when Leo and Raph landed on the top of the tank, shaking the vehicle.

“Any luck?” Donnie asked as he crawled out from the hatch on the ceiling to join his brothers on the roof.

“We were hoping you had better news…” Raphael frowned as he plopped down into a sitting position.

The turtles all followed suit, allowing themselves to be in the open with the cover of night. April crawled up as well, holding out sandwiches to Leo and Raph who took them with appreciative smiles.

“We looked under every pebble.” Leo sighed as he took a bite of the sandwich, not waiting until he was done chewing to continue. “No sign of him at all.”

“We ran into Meat Sweats; he didn’t know anything.” Donatello shrugged as he fiddled with his tech bo. These patrols were usually more fun when there wasn’t a crushing weight of dreadful circumstances. He was putting the last of his faith into Master Splinter, hoping that they would be able to take their youngest home tonight, kiss any of his boo boos away, and finally sleep knowing that Mikey was safe in their own home.

“Besides that, it’s been a quiet night.” April swung her legs over the side of the tank, basking in the silence.

“I swear if I knew where the Foot Clan are hiding out, I would be busting down their doors right now,” Raphael grumbled in impatience.

Before one of the others could add onto Raph’s statement, a loud rumbling engine caught their attention. The motorbike sped down the street, coming to a screeching halt in front of the tank, where the gang all peaked over the edge of the roof. 

“Dad!” Leo smiled, hope filling his gut once more. “Did you find anything?”

When the rat looked back up towards his sons, a deep disappointment behind his eyes, the smiles were erased, and hope was diminished. “I… I am sorry, my children. He is not in Big Mama’s possession.”

Nobody said a word when Raph punched the roof of the tank with a loud grunt, causing the opposite end to lift off the ground slightly. Throughout the whole ordeal, the entire group was oblivious to the pair sneaking out of the Museum behind them.

Michelangelo and Cassandra were assigned to check a new shipment of fossils for any mystic artifacts. After scanning through crates and wandering around the empty museum, the two agreed the building was clear and made their leave. However, the box turtle couldn’t help but pause on the roof as he heard loud voices from the road in front of the museum. He turned around gingerly and walked over to the ledge, leaning over it slightly, curious to see what was going on.

“Michelangelo?” Casey hissed in a questioning whisper.

“Shhh, Just a second.” Mikey motioned towards the vehicle that resembled a turtle with multiple figures sitting on top of it, barely being illuminated by the surrounding streetlights.

“What the-” The foot recruit’s heart leapt into her stomach when she realized it was the turtles. She glanced over at Mikey and back at the turtle-tank, wondering if Michelangelo had recognized them somehow.

“We should drive around again! Maybe there’s someone out there who knows something!” April argued loudly, motioning towards the vehicle they were sitting on.

“April, we cannot ask you to keep searching with us.” A small rat man had walked into view from behind the tank. “You require a more diurnal lifestyle than we do, and you have barely slept in the last twenty-four hours as it is.”

“Screw my diurnal lifestyle!” the girl shrieked. “I’ll ask my mom to call the school and tell them I’m sick. She’ll understand, I promise!”

Mikey leaned over further, eyes trailing over the features of a specific three that sat on the roof. One was large and pointy; he had a red bandana tied around his face. The other two were smaller, leaner. The blue one had some sort of sword attached to his shell while the purple one’s shell had a metal cover of sorts . He wanted to stare longer, to soak in their appearances and memorize them by heart, but a tug from his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts and back to his partner who was motioning in the other direction with her head.

“We have to go Michelangelo; we cannot be seen here,” she whispered, hoping to drag him away before they got caught. The Lieutenant would have her head if Mikey began doubting his identity only a single day into the mind-wipe.

The box turtle sighed, peeling himself away from the ledge and following Cassandra back towards the direction of HQ. The turtles were still stuck in the back of his head. He had a strange feeling of déjà vu that he couldn’t quite place. It made him uncomfortable to think about, so he tried to shove it down and excuse the weird feelings. It was probably the fact they were turtles that had caught Mikey’s attention. Turtles… Just like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho ho ho we are getting into some of the more longer chapters. All I can say is... this may not be the last you see of Draxum. 
> 
> Thanks to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

The boys and girls in the clique, the awful names that they stick  
You're never gonna fit in much, kid  
But if you're troubled and hurt, what you got under your shirt  
Will make them pay for the things that they did

They said "All teenagers scare the living shit out of me  
They could care less as long as someone'll bleed"  
So, darken your clothes or strike a violent pose  
Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me, oh, hoo yeah!  
-"Teenagers" by My Chemical Romance 

______________________________________________________________________

It had been five days since Michelangelo’s sudden disappearance. Five days since there was even a hint of peace in the lair. The atmosphere was heavy with desperation and anxiety. Sleep was a luxury that came in short naps, and any hint of normalcy had vanished from their schedules. Hamato Yoshi tapped the edge of his teacup in a rhythmic motion. He went through his mental list of every enemy he had made during his time in the Hidden City. Any solid lead had long since been investigated. The city underneath New York had been combed through for any sign of his bright bundle of joy, and as soon as the turtle’s allies were informed of their brother’s disappearance, they all volunteered to help out. Senor Hueso even agreed to hang up missing posters in his restaurant, but there were still no signs of Mikey. It was as if Michelangelo simply vanished into thin air. 

The rat walked into the living room and glanced over his sons and honorary daughter who were sprawled out among the furniture in slumber. He checked on each child individually, coating them in blankets and occasionally stroking a cheek or repositioning them to a more comfortable position. They had been searching around the city into the early hours of the morning, just as they had been doing for the past five days. The time seemed to fly by, yet it also felt like wading through molasses, watching events unfold in slow motion. Splinter felt a pain in his chest, thinking of the fact his son had been gone for so long. He knew the statistics of a kidnapped child’s survival rate. The first twenty-four hours were the most important. The chance of finding a kidnapped child alive after that dropped significantly for each day that passed. It was a father’s worst nightmare.

“Mmm, Pops?” Raphael hummed half asleep and shifted from where he was laying on the floor, looking up towards the rat.

“Go back to sleep, Red.” Splinter hushed his oldest. “You worked hard last night; now you must rest.”

The snapping turtle nodded with tired eyes, not even fully registering what was being said to him before rolling over again, falling back asleep.

With a small prayer to his ancestors for guidance, Splinter walked back to his own room. He always thought by refusing to train his sons he was protecting them. If they were not raised to be heroes, they would not put themselves in danger to become one. He refused to put the weight of the world onto his children’s shoulders. He always thought that by raising them without the strict regimen of the Hamato Clan, they would be happier and free of the constant mental strain he had been put through in his own childhood. But now, he just felt like a failure. Perhaps it would’ve made no difference, but Splinter couldn’t help but think that maybe if he had pushed his sons just a little more in their training, Michelangelo would have been able to come home that night. Maybe his son would’ve been able to fend off whatever foe had come to make claims to said son. The indefinite possibilities of “what if”s left Yoshi dizzy with guilt and sorrow. Perhaps if he had been a better father, his son would be safe.

The rat let out a choked cry, bringing a hand up to his mouth to muffle any sounds that may escape. “My poor son… I will not fail you again…”

______________________________________________________________________

Michelangelo and Cassandra both bowed towards each other before relaxing their muscles as they pulled themselves up from the formal pose. Both were a bit out of breath as they had just finished a long sparring match, which had ended in a tie. With a wave from Lieutenant, they were wordlessly excused from training, along with a few other Foot ninja.

Mikey pulled down the mask covering the lower half of his face as he and Casey walked briskly down the hall towards the cafeteria. “Man, I almost had you a few times back there!”

“Yeah, right,” the Foot recruit laughed out with a sarcastic tone. “You just barely got through that round.”

“Aw, come on! You gotta admit I’m getting better.” The box turtle let out a whine as the pair walked into the moderately occupied cafeteria. He had definitely noticed an improvement in his abilities in the last five days. While previously, he acted on pure instinct, Mikey could now feel himself initiating the movements as they became more familiar. As Lieutenant had put it, his skills were natural, but now they were being sharpened, more defined.

“Hmmmmm…” Casey scratched her chin dramatically in mock thought.

“You’re so mean!” Michelangelo elbowed his companion with a laugh.

Cassandra burst out into small giggles as well before shoving the turtle back and running ahead to the counter where meal trays were being handed out by an origami soldier, Michelangelo right behind her.

They both collected a tray and scurried over to an empty table in the corner, away from the usual crowd of Foot members. The rations weren’t usually the most gourmet of dishes, but to desperate people who needed a warm meal and a place to sleep in return for their loyalty to the clan, it was good enough. This afternoon it was a bowl of steamed rice with a fried egg and fish.

Michelangelo had quickly dug into his meal while Casey stared for a few moments in thought. Her life had changed significantly in the past few days. Usually she sat in this corner alone. In fact, before five days ago, she always seemed to be alone. Cassandra didn’t like to admit it, but she had a hard time connecting with people. She was always too temperamental or erratic for other people to approach. She remembered when she had first joined the clan, she tried so hard to become acquainted with the other members but ended up scaring most of them off with her outbursts or fiery personality. After a while she just… stopped trying and accepted that she would always be seen as an outcast. It hadn’t bothered her much at the time. Her only duties were to serve the clan, not become buddies with everyone she met. Besides, it seemed like no amount of new people could fill the gaping void she had in her heart at the time. After losing him… the only person she really cared for…

“Hey, you okay?” Mikey mumbled, mouth full of food.

“Huh?” Cassandra looked up from her untouched bowl of rice to meet Michelangelo’s eyes. “Oh, yeah! I’m fine.” She split the egg in half with her chopsticks, bringing it up to her mouth. She smiled a bit while thinking about how nobody had really asked her that question in a long time. Oh yeah, her life was dramatically different now. “Just thinking about how I’m gonna destroy you at air hockey whenever we go to the arcade tonight.”

“You convinced the Lieutenant to let us go to the arcade?!” Mikey almost fell out of his seat with how far he was leaning forward. “Casey, you’re the BEST!”

“I am, aren’t I?” She gave a sly smile. “If you want, you can come help me with inventory duty until then?”

“Ughhhhhhh, but inventory duty sucks!” Michelangelo deflated onto the table. He had been assigned the task yesterday, with the recruit to mentor him of course. He found the checking of supplies extremely boring. Not to mention the supplies room was cramped and stuffy.

“Buutttttt, if you help me, we’ll be able to go to the arcade sooner,” Cassandra bribed, pointing her chopsticks towards the box turtle. Seeing as he wasn’t entirely convinced, Casey decided to sweeten the deal. “I’ll let you play whatever music you want too.”

This caught the turtle’s attention. He quickly found a deep fascination with music within his first couple of days in the Foot. Cassandra had turned on her playlist while the two were chilling in her quarters one night and ever since then Mikey had been constantly asking for her phone to play more music. 80’s classic rock would blare from his headphones anytime he managed to get his grubby hands on them. Since then, Casey tried to encourage the turtle to branch out and experiment with other genres he might like, but Michelangelo was already infatuated with her oldies playlist. The recruit noticed how the turtle would become incredibly attached to his first encounters and not want to travel any further from his comfort zone beyond that. The first thing he ate when he had “awakened” was hot soba in broth with scallion and a slice of kamaboko. This had immediately become the turtle’s proclaimed favorite food and he would be overjoyed when it was served for a meal. She figured it had something to do with his mind-wipe. Not remembering your favorite foods or music are probably unsettling experiences and she figured he was just desperate to fill those gaps as soon as possible. Not that she minded; Casey was always willing to jam out to some good ol’ classic rock.

“And as loud as I want?” Mikey asked with anticipation.

“Loud enough to make the Brute deaf,” Casey said with a nod.

A few eyes turned towards the pair as the mutant turtle stood up on his seat with an excited screech of, “YES!”

Casey smiled, motioning for him to sit back down. “You can go get my speaker and I’ll meet you in the storage room, okay?”

“GOT IT!” Michelangelo shot up from his seat and ran towards the door, only turning around for a brief moment when Cassandra had yelled at him to not touch anything besides the speaker. Like the mature turtle he was, he responded by blowing a raspberry before plowing through the swinging door and rushing off towards the dorm corridor.

The turtle came to a screeching halt when he turned the corner to see two figures standing alone in a hallway that connected to the dojo. Ninja instinct kicked into high gear, and Mikey hid himself behind the corner before he was spotted. At first he was afraid of interrupting, but now he was filled with curiosity as he recognized the voices of his two Sensei.

“Everything is going according to plan,” the Lieutenant rasped out in a hushed voice. “He seems to be taking the transition period quite well.”

“Lil bugger’s gotten stronger too,” the large brute grunted as he folded his arms. “Wiped the floor with half the other recruits in training yesterday.”

Michelangelo couldn’t help but blush slightly at the praise, realizing they were talking about him.

“As we predicted, he will be a valuable asset to the clan.” The Lieutenant nodded. “I plan on sending him and the recruit on a mission soon. The only thing I’m concerned about are those other turtles.”

Michelangelo froze. They knew about the other turtles? He thought back to the night he witnessed the three yokai turtles. Each time he tried to discuss it with Cassandra he was shot down with some sort of excuse or change of subject, so hearing someone else address their existence was surprising. He simply assumed they were turtle yokai, like himself, and had probably come from the Hidden City that Michelangelo was told briefly about. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but he almost wanted to talk to them and see if maybe they knew who his family was. It was probably rude to presume that just because they’re the same species they may have connections, but desperate for any sort of link to his past, Mikey didn’t care.

“Those stupid turtles ruin everything.” The Brute pounded his fist into his palm.

“We just have to be prepared is all.” The Lieutenant raised an index finger in a show of patience. “Lay a sturdy foundation that they won’t be able to shake.”

Michelangelo tilted his head in confusion. What had the turtles done to end up as a recognized enemy by the Foot Clan?

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe we can get him to beat their shells.” The Brute let out another laugh as they began walking again towards the hall Mikey was currently listening from.

“Now THAT, would be satisfying.” The Lieutenant laughed as well.

Hearing their footsteps come closer, the box turtle began to panic. Looking around for areas he could hide, he finally glanced up towards the rafters in the ceiling and jumped up to grab a hold of one. Once he was securely hanging from a rafter like sloth, he held his breath while his two Sensei turned the corner and passed right by him. He waited until their conversation became muffled by distance before dropping to the floor again, letting out a sigh of relief.

Michelangelo continued again on his previous journey to Cassandra’s room while processing the conversation he just overheard. Apparently they weren’t too fond of the turtles. His Sensei also seemed to have some sort of plan they were worried about the yokai interfering with. Opening Casey’s door, Mikey spotted the bright red portable speaker and snagged it before jogging back towards the storage room. Deciding the best course of action was to simply ask his Sensei about the turtles later, Michelangelo shoved those worries to the back of his mind.

The box turtle swung open the door into the cramped storage room, eyes landing on Cassandra who was on top of a ladder, sliding a large box onto the top of a shelving unit. She waved as soon as she noticed the mutant had entered.

“Ready to get to work?” she asked, handing Michelangelo her phone.

“Ready to get noise complaints?” The turtle gave a cheeky smile as he tapped open the music playlist and cranked up the volume.

______________________________________________________________________

Michelangelo and Cassandra were walking back towards their rooms in preparation to leave. After a few hours of inventory which had slowly turned into storage room karaoke, the Lieutenant himself had finally kicked down the doors and yelled at them for all the noise they had been making. It was fun while it lasted.

As soon as they made it to Cassandra’s room, she began digging through her drawers, pulling out clothes that Mikey would be able to wear as a disguise. On his third day in the Foot, Mikey tried to go outside, only to quickly discover that humans didn’t take the appearance of yokai too well. He had been pretty upset at the time, but he seemed to have come to an acceptance of the issue. The recruit pulled out a black hoodie and some gray sweatpants with checkered stripes down the side of the pant legs. Throwing the clothing to the turtle, she told him to go get dressed and meet her in the hallway.

Cassandra herself walked out with a bit of a wardrobe change herself. She was wearing a black tank top with a red letterman’s jacket. Her sweatpants were gray as well with flame designs on them. She was also wearing a pair of worn out tennis shoes that had originally been white but were now more of a tan color. Michelangelo had clapped as she emerged from her room with a small blush tinting her face. She wasn’t used to being around the Foot in her civilian clothes.

“Here, I also got this for you.” She pulled out a beanie from her pocket, situated it onto the turtle’s head, and pulled his hood up over it. The hoodie was a bit oversized on Mikey, but it worked out perfectly with the additional shell it had to compensate for. She noticed he had the sports tape wrapped around his hands and feet still. It’s not like they had any custom turtle shoes lying around so that would have to work for now.

“I’m so excited! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” The small turtle bounced around Cassandra in excitement.

“Okay!” Casey finally grabbed Michelangelo’s shoulders, rooting him in place. “This way, c’mon.”

As she started leading Mikey down a hallway in the opposite direction from the main entrance, he tilted his head in confusion. “Casey, this is the wrong way.”

“Oh no it isn’t.” Cassandra gave Mikey a sly smile as she pushed open a heavy door that Michelangelo had not been through before.

It led into a large garage filled with multiple vehicles and what appeared to be several welding tables. As Michelangelo gasped and stared at all the shiny black SUVs, Casey led him over to a corner where she dug out a pair of keys in her pocket.

“You didn’t think we were walking did you?” Cassandra stepped aside to reveal a very well-taken-care-of motorbike.

“Ohmigosh!” Mikey squealed, stars shining in his pupils. “You drive a motorcycle!?”

“She’s my baby,” the recruit responded, patting the shiny painted exterior before grabbing a hold of a spare helmet and tossing it towards Michelangelo. “You ready to go or what?”

“Aw yeah!” The box turtle hopped onto the back of the bike after Casey, putting on the helmet as he did so. “We’re riding in style tonight, baby!”

Casey took the helmet resting on the handlebars and fixed it onto her head before lifting the kick stan and starting the motor with a smooth rumble that echoed throughout the bare walls of the garage.

Mikey squealed and held onto Cassandra’s waist just a little bit tighter when the bike quickly sped off into the tunnel that connected the underground garage to the streets of New York. Once they were out in the open air, Mikey lifted his head a little, taking in all the bright neon colors of New York city. He’d seen it before, but something about zooming down a road, weaving in and out of traffic on a motorbike just gave it a new thrilling perspective. The motorbike purred beautifully as it revved through the streets, earning itself a few honks whenever it cut off a car.

Mikey let out a loud “WOOHOO!” as Cassandra popped a wheelie, showing off only a tad. He was so glad they were excused from patrol duty tonight. While parkouring through rooftops and scouting out libraries and museums was fun, nothing could beat the pure contentment he felt by the wind rushing past his head, tugging on the loose hoodie sleeves, and leaving him with the good kind of chills.

As the box turtle relished in the adrenaline, Casey brought them into a shady parking-lot with a sharp turn. The nearest arcade had been there for years and wasn’t always kept in the best shape. It was more of a sticky floors and broken faucets in the bathroom kind of place. The recruit cut the engine and flipped down the kickstand with her ankle. Michelangelo hopped off, somehow even more excited than before. They tossed the helmets onto the bike and walked into the dimly lit arcade with neon patterned carpet straight out of the 80s. The entire building echoed with the pings of arcade game loading screens, and bright colored lights shined from all types of games and pinball machines. Some underpaid teenager in a uniform, sitting behind a desk, didn’t even look up from his phone as the pair entered.

Mikey gaped and started walking around the arcade, eyes trailing along all the games and lights as Cassandra started feeding a few bills into a machine that would spit out quarters in exchange. The turtle found this atmosphere… familiar, as if he had been surrounded by these games before. Finding comfort in the recognition of some of the game titles, he turned around with a smile when Cassandra tapped his shoulder. She handed him a few quarters from her small gathered stitch sack.

“Ready to get absolutely destroyed at Galactic Apocalypse?” Casey had a devilish smile on her face as she picked up one of the fake guns attached to a large multiplayer game.

“You’ll be eating those words in a second here, Cassandra Jones.” Michelangelo fed the game a few quarters as the loud startup music blasted from the machine.

After a few rounds, which Cassandra had won, the pair moved on to different games. A few single players every now and then, trying to get their names up on the high-score board. They traveled around the arcade, hitting every game, even the air hockey, which Casey was surprisingly incredible at. Just after Mikey had won a handful of tickets from his smashing score in skee-ball, they wandered towards the back of the building where the turtle caught sight of a large machine with some sort of platform with glowing arrows connecting to it on the floor.

Mikey recognized the game immediately. Just as he was about to run over to it, a throb rang out through his skull, forcing him to bring his hands up to his head. He remembered blurry figures, swinging around in a dance-like motion. It was almost as if a memory was trying desperately to be pushed into the light, but some wall was preventing it from entering.

“Hey, you okay?” Cassandra was suddenly right at his side, holding the turtle’s shoulders, trying to see his face which was hidden by his hands.

“I-’ Just as suddenly as the ache came, it had vanished. “I’m okay… Just got… really dizzy for a second there.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Casey’s voice was laced with concern as she adjusted his beanie and hoodie.

“No, I’m fine, Case.” Mikey allowed her to make all the motherly adjustments to his clothing while he gave her a reassuring smile. “I promise!”

“Okay… if you’re sure.” She hesitantly let go. “Just let me know if it happens again.”

“I will!” Michelangelo gave a chuckle, returning to his bouncy energetic self. His attention turned back towards the game that had given him a splitting headache just at the sight of it. Maybe if he played it for a little… the blurry figures would become clearer. “Let’s play this one!”

“DDR?” Casey smirked, approaching the machine. “You really just love getting beat by me apparently. I hold the top score of this game, Michelangelo.”

“Omigosh, really!?” The box turtle ran over and punched a button to bring up the high score archive. True to her word, the initial “CSY” popped up at the number one spot. “Then I guess it would be an honor to play against such a famous contestant,” he joked.

“Loser buys dinner.” Casey bet, hopping up onto the glowing platform. They both knew she wasn’t serious considering the mutant had no money, but the challenge stood nonetheless.

“Oh you are on!” Michelangelo began scrolling through songs before punching one in, standing back as the screen loaded. “Prepare to hand over your crown.”

The two gave competitive smiles as the game counted down from three and music began to play with arrows flowing up the screen at a steady pace. Michelangelo started out a bit wobbly, missing a few beats, trying to adjust to the game. Cassandra on the other hand had dived right into the moves as if she had memorized the level by heart, which she probably had. Artificial cheering began to ring out from the speakers as she hit combo after combo, moving her feet with the skill of a break dancer, her entire body swinging into the motions. She gave a triumphant cry as her score began flying past her partner’s.

Mikey tripped over himself a little before slowly starting to improve. He hit more beats and his own half of the screen started cheering as well. The two were almost dancing in sync now as they spun and kicked and tapped the floor with all their strength. They were more than halfway through the song when Mikey’s score finally caught up to Casey’s, coming dangerously close to the score on the leaderboards. With a little motivation, the recruit somehow put more effort into her movements, already panting and sweating as the beat slowly increased in pace. Their scores inched upwards together, holding steady as a tie when towards the last new notes, Casey had accidently slipped, catching her footing quickly. As she got situated however, it was too late. The screen went black as they waited silently in anticipation, wondering what the outcome would be. It was too close to tell who had won immediately.

Loud cheering boosted from the game as Michelangelo’s half of the screen lit up with bright neon colors, a spinning crown on top of his score to indicate his victory.

“YESSS!” Mikey pumped a fist into the air, as Casey let out a defeated groan.

In excitement, the turtle ran up to the screen and typed in his three-digit name, “MKY” he wasn’t even sure why he used that exact nickname; it just came so instinctually so he rolled with it. When the score was saved and showed up on the leaderboards, Casey let out a laugh as she remained on the very top of the list. While Michelangelo had managed to get himself up to the number-two slot, Cassandra remained the leading competitor.

“Aww man!” Mikey whined while Casey bounced around in a gloating victory. “Either way I still totally beat you on that round!”

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say.” She ruffled his head with her hand before hopping off the machine, adrenaline still buzzing through her veins. “Now c’mon, I’m hungry.”

Game forgotten for the sake of food, the turtle chased after her.

“There’s this really good pizza place next door. You’re gonna love it, trust me.” Casey let out a laugh as they exited the arcade, the sound of games and pinball machines was replaced with the ever-present ringing of traffic in the air of New York City.

The two laughed and conversed about the memorable moments they had made back in the arcade as they passed through a shaded alleyway. Suddenly Cassandra had stopped, form rigged and pulled her companion behind a dumpster, slapping a hand over his mouth. Michelangelo had flinched at first and tried to cry out but the intense stare of Cassandra towards the rooftop above them made him silent with sudden understanding. She had heard someone approaching. The two sat crouched down behind the dumpster, Cassandra’s arms wrapped around the turtle from behind to keep him in place as they watched multiple figures come into view from the rooftop. Mikey’s eyes widened when he realized it was the turtles from before.

The turtles hadn’t seemed to spot them as they continued to engage in a fairly loud conversation, climbing down the fire escape of the building.

“The Foot hasn’t made an appearance in days; I’m telling you, they’re onto something!” The one with a blue bandana cried as he all but slid down the drainage pole.

“Well it’s not like we can just go knocking on their door to find out!” A large figure dropped from halfway down the fire escape, shaking the ground slightly, making Michelangelo jump in Cassandra’s arms. “We don’t know where they’re hiding out.”

“April and I have been sifting through every police report within the past month, there’s been nothing since the auction house.” A tall turtle with a purple bandana hopped off the ladder of the fire escape, though much closer to the ground than the red one had been on. “Other than keeping an eye out and double checking every other lead, there’s nothing we can do.”

The largest of them let out a feral growl and seemed to shake with anger. “I swear when I get my hands on that flame-headed freak, I’m gonna-” The red turtle cut himself off as he punched a trash can, sending it flying across the alleyway, bent in half.

The blue turtle stepped forward, rubbing the larger one’s arm in a calming manner as the red turtle heaved out angry breaths trying to restrain himself. “It’s okay, Raph… We’ll get him back. No matter what.”

Michelangelo stared in horror at the mangled trash can. This turtle was so aggressive, and it scared him to his core thinking that they were hunting down his Clan.

“Come on,” the purple turtle waved as he shifted a manhole cover from its place in the ground. “We need to meet back up with father and April, see if they need any help with Big Mama again.”

The other two turtles nodded and crawled into the sewer entrance with grace before sliding the manhole cover back into its place, leaving Cassandra and Mikey frozen behind the dumpster.

The pair waited a few minutes, just to make sure the turtles weren’t coming back before crawling from their hiding place in the shadows.

Michelangelo glanced once more at the metal trash can. Curiosity still lingered but he felt fear creeping up his spine as well. The turtles were dangerous, and they were actively hunting down Foot ninjas.

“Are you okay?” Cassandra didn’t know what else to ask.

“Fine…” Michelangelo tore his eyes away from the trash can and settled onto Casey’s calming form. He had so many questions but knew Cassandra would not entertain him with answers. That was something only the Lieutenant could give him.

“Why don’t we grab a pizza to go?” Cassandra muttered realizing their energetic vibe had been tarnished by the turtles’ arrival. It sent a small burst of anger through her, making her grit her teeth. She had been enjoying herself more the past few days than she had in years and they ruined it for her. Not to mention they freaked out her new friend. Michelangelo was trembling slightly. How dare they ruin the one day they had off from patrol? “We could watch a movie or something in my room. How does that sound?”

Mikey gave a tired smile. “It sounds great, Casey.”

After grabbing a pie, the pair of Foot ninjas had sped back towards HQ. Casey had been glancing in her rearview mirror every few moments to make sure the turtles weren’t following them. Sensei would not be pleased when he finds out that the turtles were looking for them.

Cassandra opened her laptop as soon as they got home and allowed Mikey to scroll through the movies she had downloaded while she pulled off her jacket and shoes. Mikey had taken off the beanie and sweatpants, but kept the large hoodie on, pulling the clothing over his legs as he sat curled up on the bed. He didn’t know why but he was pulled towards the abundance of karate action movies Casey had. They were all titled relatively similar with “Lou Jitsu” in the name.

The bed creaked slightly as Casey plopped down next to her turtle companion, setting the half-empty pizza box next to the laptop which was already playing the beginning title of a Lou Jitsu movie.

Michelangelo curled up next to the figure sitting cross-legged next to him, laying his head in her lap. She brought a hand down to his head and stroked it softly, already engrossed in the movie playing. The turtle’s eyelids involuntarily began to slide down. He tried to stay awake and watch the movie with his friend, but exhaustion tugged on him like an anchor. The sounds of a cheesy action film faded away and pulled him into a peaceful slumber

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually a lot of fun to write! I had to sprinkle in a little angst at the end but it will be important later as to why. 
> 
> Huge thanks to Shou ( @daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

Why are you asking me why?  
My days and nights are filled with disappointment  
Fine, oh, no, everything's fine  
I'm not sure why I booked today's appointment

I've been so good  
I've been helpful and friendly  
I've been so good  
Why am I feeling empty?  
I've been so good  
I've been so good this year  
And I've been so good  
But it's still getting harder  
I've been so good  
Where the hell is the karma?  
I've been so good  
I've been so good this year  
-"Karma" by AJR

______________________________________________________________________

Michelangelo fidgeted with anxiety. He stood outside of the Lieutenant’s private quarters trying to muster up the courage to reach up a hand and knock. A week ago when he and Cassandra ran into the turtles in that alleyway, he had decided he would finally demand some answers, yet a week of worry and restlessness flew by instead with his stomach tying itself into knots anytime he tried to approach the Lieutenant. The box turtle didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so much fear towards the subject of the other turtles. He wasn’t known for being shy or soft-spoken, but maybe when he saw the pure hatred in his Sensei’s eyes when he was informed of their run-in with the other turtles, something clicked that the topic was seen as taboo in the clan. His need to please his superiors and his overwhelming curiosity were at odds. Mikey had never felt so conflicted.

He was about to walk away, to turn around and prolong the inevitable conversation for another day when something stubborn rooted in his brain, keeping his feet cemented to the floor. No, he deserved answers. He grew up in this clan. He served the Foot since he was born. Michelangelo was done wandering around in the dark, knowing nothing about himself or where he came from. He tried so hard to be patient and give his memories time to unravel themselves, but the longer he floated in this void of unease and loneliness, the more his chest seemed to ache. He KNEW he was missing something, yet to be unable to even remember what it was that had been ripped from him was a feeling he could only describe as excruciating.

With a determined face, Michelangelo raised a shaky hand and tapped the door with his knuckles a few times. The action was soft, but in the crushing silence it felt unbearably loud. The turtle waited for a few tense moments, holding his breath as if some force were going to steal it from him if he didn’t. After waiting for what seemed like minutes, though it was probably only a few seconds, Mikey heard a shuffle from behind the door.

With a soft click, the metal door opened a tad, the Lieutenant’s flamed head illuminating the top of his face. “Michelangelo, I’ve been expecting you,” the lieutenant rasped out while opening the door completely. “Please, come in.”

The turtle let out a shaky breath of relief before entering his Sensei’s quarters. The room was very dark, only being illuminated by half melted candles on almost every surface. Surely this was some sort of fire hazard. There were shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls, some of which appeared to be in a language Michelangelo couldn’t recognize. While there was no bed present in this main room, there seemed to be multiple doors, leading Mikey to believe that his Sensei probably had a full-on suite. In the middle of the room there was a chabudai table, low to the ground, with two seating pillows. The Lieutenant motioned for the young turtle to have a seat, while he rushed off to a side room that was far more illuminated.

Michelangelo gingerly sat down on one side of the table, soaking in his surroundings. When the Lieutenant emerged from the side room, he was carrying a tray of tea. “I suspect I already know what you’re here to ask me, but please inquire anyway.”

The turtle visibly relaxed, seeing how casual this conversation was leading off to be. “I want to know who I was.” Michelangelo watched his Sensei sit down and pour them both a steaming cup of tea. “I know you said I was from a different location and you have no way of giving me the answers I want, but perhaps I could transfer back to my original home? Just for a few days… To see if there is someone there who could jog my memories.”

The Lieutenant nodded, bringing the cup up to his lips, blowing softly. “I realized you would be unsatisfied with your lack of answers sooner or later.” He put down the cup and held up a filing folder that had been sitting in his lap. “I requested to have your files transferred the moment we realized you were amnesic. They just arrived this morning.”

“My… files?” Michelangelo perked up with curiosity and set down his teacup.

“Every document filed about you from training records to medical history,” the lieutenant clarified with a nod. “Your entire life in paper format.”

“Could I… read them?” The turtle raised his hand slightly seeing as his Sensei has yet to hand over the folder.

“Of course, Michelangelo.” The Lieutenant set the folder on the table, sliding it over to the kusarigama-wielder. However, whenever Mikey tried to take the folder, the Lieutenant’s hands stayed, rooting it to the table. “Before you open it, there is some… difficult information I must tell you.”

Michelangelo searched his Sensei’s eyes for deceit, but all he found was sympathy. The young mutant removed his hand from the file and nodded for the Lieutenant to continue

“I must warn you: it is not pleasant. If you wish to continue now in oblivion, now is your chance to do so.” The flame-headed man took his hand away from the folder as well, leaving it exposed on the table, just waiting for its secrets to be unveiled.

Mikey felt a hint of worry rise in his throat. Whatever it was couldn’t be good, but he quickly decided having painful memories would beat no memories at all. “I can handle it.”

“Then allow me to start from the beginning.” The Lieutenant reached forward, opening the file, as the first page revealed itself. It was a birth certificate. “You were born into the Foot Clan by a valiant warrior of the name, Venus De Milo. She raised you in the ways of the Foot and you passed the initiation exam when you were only ten years of age.”

Mikey hummed as he listened along. He figured he probably had a guardian figure of some sorts but hearing her name did not spark any recognition as he had hoped.

The Lieutenant continued to flip through the files, revealing progress reports in his training and his initiation certificate. “A few weeks ago you were scheduled to be transferred here, to receive a couple months of additional training, but when the day came for you to leave, something went wrong.” The flame-headed man’s voice darkened. “Somehow our enemies were able to find the location of the Newark base and had planned an attack.”

“What?” Michelangelo whispered, suddenly understanding what his Sensei had meant by “unpleasant information.”

“Without any forewarning to prepare, the base was left completely unprotected as our adversaries showed no mercy.” The Lieutenant gripped his fist in anger. “When our shipment of transferring recruits never arrived, we realized something had happened. We sent reinforcements as fast as possible, but by the time they arrived… it was too late.”

Mikey’s eyes widened, realizing the one place he had left to possibly try and regain his former self was probably gone. He looked down in shock, not knowing how to respond. “Venus De Milo… my mother… did she...?” he finally stuttered out through his clamped-up throat.

“There were only a handful of survivors. I’m sorry, Michelangelo.” The Lieutenant closed the file, sliding it over to the turtle so he could go through the rest on his own time. “We brought you here, where you remained unconscious for several days. I was waiting for the backup files to arrive before I told you.”

The box turtle remained uncharacteristically silent where he sat, staring at his hands. He didn’t know what to think. He wanted to cry, to mourn the mother he lost, but at the same time he barely felt connected to her. It was just a name on a piece of paper, no emotions attached to them. Instead he felt anger. He would never get to reclaim his memories with his mother, his possible other friends, nor the home he had grown up in. His past life was more than just forgotten, it was burned to the ground. The ashes were scattered in the wind and all he could do is grasp at them to try and collect mere particles of his identity.

“Who did it?” the turtle whispered.

“That’s another topic that will require a bit of explaining-”

“Who did it?” he repeated louder, looking up towards his Sensei with a spark of fury in his eyes.

“According to our recruit, Cassandra, you’ve already become familiar with them,” the Lieutenant hinted with a sip of his tea.

In that moment Michelangelo knew exactly who he was suggesting. Now he finally understood. He understood why his superiors growled with rage at the mention of the turtles. He understood why Casey had refused to discuss it with him. He understood why the Brute wanted to destroy them. He understood… and he was starting to feel the same.

“Why?!” The still turtle suddenly lashed out, slamming his hands onto the table, rattling the tea set. “Why would they want to hurt so many people?!”

“They don’t agree with our cause. They believe our master should remain in his unjust shadow realm prison forever,” the Lieutenant responded calmly. “They do not understand our ideology, so they seek to destroy us.”

Mikey clenched his fists. He had never wanted to punch something more in his life than he did in this moment. He felt a fire spark inside the emptiness in his heart. Where there once was a void there was now a purpose. He would avenge his Clan. He would make those turtles pay for what they did to his family, his friends, and his memories. “They won’t get away with this.”

“As much as I understand your anger, I have to advise against any plot to pursue them, Michelangelo.”

“And why’s that?” The box turtle couldn’t help but be slightly offended.

“I have concerns they may target you specifically, perhaps try to turn you against your clan.” The Lieutenant remained professional with the obviously emotion-driven teen. “You are the same species, after all. They may find it logical for you to join your own kind.”

“Why the hell would I join them after what they did to my family?!” Mikey almost laughed.

“They are dishonorable tricksters.” The flame-headed ninja put it simply. “They’ll do anything to get their way.”

After a few moments with no response, Michelangelo gathered the folder in his hands, handling with extreme care as if it would shatter under his touch. “If it’s alright Sensei, I would like some time to… think about all this.” He didn’t sound as angry as before, but the hatred still lingered in his voice.

“Of course.” The Lieutenant stood with the turtle and led him towards the door. “I apologize again for what happened to your previous home, Michelangelo. I assure you the clan will do everything in its power to put a stop to the turtles’ tyranny.”

“Thank you, Sensei.” The small turtle bowed politely, facing towards his authoritative figure before exiting the quarters.

As soon as the door was closed, the Lieutenant resisted the urge to laugh. This was almost fun. Usually he wouldn’t go through so much effort as creating a fake backstory to keep their mind-wiped recruits, but he would make an exception for this one. Michelangelo had proven himself to be worth the extra effort. The turtle had already excelled so far in his training. He could go toe to toe with the Brute himself and it had only been twelve days. The pure raw talent this child possessed was far beyond anything the flame-headed ninja had seen before. 

He was almost completely certain that Michelangelo would be the secret weapon they would need to rid themselves of the turtles once and for all. Who knows, in a couple of years he may even prove to be a worthy host for their master to possess through the dark armor. Besides, it’s not like it was that hard to create some fake documents. All he had to do was take the paperwork from a deceased recruit and tweak it slightly to fit Michelangelo. 

Sprinkling in a little motivation to destroy the turtles was just a welcomed bonus. He’s invested too much time into this child for his brothers to win him back so easily.

______________________________________________________________________

“Michelangelo?” Cassandra rapped her fist onto her companion’s door, listening for any sounds of movement inside. The turtle had disappeared after training and failed to join the recruit for lunch. At first she didn’t think much of it, but after a few hours with no sight of the child that usually trailed behind her like a shadow she started to grow concerned.

A muffled, “Come in,” echoed from the tiny room.

The recruit opened the door with a bit of caution, peaking into the room before stepping into it completely. She suddenly felt a pang of déjà vu from when she entered this room for the first time twelve days ago. The turtle was curled up in the same spot behind the chest, a filing folder open in front of him with documents scattered all across the floor.

Casey did her best to step around the papers that coated the ground and find her way over to Michelangelo. “What’s goin’ on over here, bud?”

“It’s all gone,” Mikey whispered from where his head was buried between his knees that were pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them in a tight embrace. “My last chance to get my memories back, it’s gone.”

Casey finally looked out at the sea of paper, paying more attention to the details inscribed on them. She reached out and picked up the closest document. It was an accepted transfer request for Mikey to come here. She recognized the location that the document said he was transferring from. Everyone in the foot knew about it. It was about a decade ago when the base was ambushed and burned to the ground. It was one of the only known instances of a Foot Clan hideout being discovered and attacked. A confused look graced her face as the date of the document was only from a month or so ago.

“Everyone I once knew… they’re all gone.” Mikey shuddered, letting out a trembling sigh.

Cassandra paused. She didn’t know what to say. She realized immediately that this was a ploy set up by her superiors. They had given him a past and destroyed it so he wouldn’t ask questions. It was brilliant but oh, so cruel. “Are these… your files?” She decided it was best to play dumb as to not interfere with Sensei’s plan.

“Sensei said he requested them as soon as they realized I had amnesia. He didn’t want to tell me about what happened until they arrived.”

The recruit expanded her search among the papers and found a death certificate. It was of someone by the name of Venus De Milo. Looking again she saw the date of death was just a few weeks ago. Slowly putting the pieces together she realized Sensei had inserted Michelangelo’s past into the Newark base incident and customized the dates to just before he woke up.

“You’re from Newark?” she questioned, trying her best to tread lightly as to not upset him.

Mikey gave a slow nod, slowly bringing his head up to meet her eyes. “I knew I had a connection with those turtles. It’s all their fault.”

Cassandra froze again. While the turtles had been a pain in the ass, they had nothing to do with the Newark incident. Judging by Michelangelo’s age, they were probably only kids when it happened. Instead of responding, she allowed the turtle to continue.

“They want to stop us so badly; they don’t care that these are people’s lives that they’re ruining.” His sorrow-filled voice slowly turned to anger, something Casey had yet to see within him. “They don’t care about the lives that were lost or the families they destroyed.”

Casey reached out instinctively, placing a hand on the turtle’s trembling shoulder. He was filled with such grief; it flooded the room, making it hard for her to breathe. Seeing him in such pain made her want to reach out, grab his shoulders, shake him, and scream at him about how it wasn’t real, his family wasn’t dead, his home wasn’t burned to the ground. Yet she didn’t. Her loyalty to the clan overcame her emotions and buried them deep inside a box, locking them up tight. He had to go through this pain if he were to accept his destiny in the Foot Clan. If she were to reveal his true past she would destroy the trust that had been built between them, and most importantly her Sensei’s hard work would be ruined. So instead she said nothing, and pulled her small companion into an embrace, rubbing his shell in soothing circles. “We’ll make them pay for what they did.”

All she could do was hold and rock him as Michelangelo continued to shake and cry in her embrace, mourning the loss of the life he no longer had any connection to besides the printed ink on these documents. In this moment Cassandra questioned everything she had been working towards for the last twelve years. The first person since childhood who had walked into her life and showed her nothing but compassion was withering with a grief that she had the power to vanquish. She could bring him to his real family any time she pleased. She could take all his pain, all his suffering and silence it because she knew exactly who he was. She had all the answers he so desperately craved. She hated to admit it because she promised never to let anyone into her heart again, but Cassandra had grown to care for this child. She had done the one thing she swore she would never do again, and it was becoming attached. It had only been twelve days, but the pure love and joy the turtle radiated sparked something inside the recruit that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Casey felt that if she were to let him go, the spark would leave with him and she would be left with an excruciating emptiness. She knew if she were to tell Michelangelo the truth he would hate her. He would leave her behind, and never forgive her. In fear and selfishness, Casey hugged the turtle tighter promising never to let go. She couldn’t lose anyone else. She wouldn’t lose anyone else.

______________________________________________________________________

Donatello groaned, shifting his head slightly before lifting it off of the desk he had accidently fallen asleep on. A sharp burst of pain erupted in his neck, making him roll his shoulders in discomfort. He tiredly rubbed his eyes, using his other hand to massage the crick in his neck. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but apparently his body had finally decided to agree with Raph and involuntarily shut itself off. In a bit of a sleepy haze, the softshell glanced over at his disastrously messy workspace trying to remember exactly what it was he had been doing before dozing off.

A loud pinging alarm started going off from one of his many computer monitors as screens began to pop up and lists of coding automatically scrolled through tiny windows on the screen. Donatello blinked a few times trying to process exactly why his computer was freaking out like that old lady whose birthday they ruined while trying to chase down Hypno. Donnie grasped for his spare glasses, leaning into the screen to try and fix whatever had gone wrong when suddenly he was hit with a burst of remembrance to what he set that alarm for.

Jumping up, the wheely chair he sat in flew across the room in the other direction and the softshell swiped piles of documents and folders off the desk causing them to rain down on the rest of his lab like snow. He smashed his fingers rapidly on the now exposed keyboard, bringing up even more tabs to scroll through the news article that he had set a worldwide scan for over the internet.

“GUYS!” Donnie almost broke the mouse with how hard he clicked for the documents to print and he gathered them sloppily into his arms before running out of his lab. “GUYS, I FINALLY FOUND IT!”

An exhausted Leo, Raph, and April suddenly straightened their spines with newfound energy from where they were sitting in the dining room booth.

“What’s goin’ on Donnie?” Raph asked with curiosity as the softshell stumbled forward, slamming the numerous pieces of paper onto the table.

“What is all this?” April pulled her glasses down from where they were resting on top of her head and started reading through what appeared to be a shipment document from the local museum.

“It’s a relic from ancient Japan, supposedly super haunted and extremely mystic.” Donnie almost laughed with glee, but the others weren’t following.

“That’s… uh… nice, Don, but I don’t think right now is the best time to be taking field trips.” Leo grimaced, questioning his brother’s sanity. Had he forgotten that their youngest was still… missing? They had been searching non-stop for almost two weeks and hope was really starting to diminish. Leo tried his best to keep up the optimism, but it was Mikey’s forte for a reason.

“No! You aren’t getting it.” Donnie sighed in frustration, trying to think of the right way to communicate his reasoning for coding an entire search engine for mystic artifacts. “The museum is getting a shipment of a possibly mystic artifact tomorrow. This is a perfect opportunity to find out what the Foot Clan’s been up to!”

Raph sat up straighter in realization. “Because if there’s one thing the Foot will come out of hiding for, its mystic artifacts!”

A newfound flame of hope had sparked through the family as smiles of determination spread across their faces. This was the first plan they had really made since checking off their known enemies. They were finally getting somewhere!

“They’ll be all over that museum like Raph on leftover cake,” Leo laughed for the first time in days.

“And when they do, we’ll be waiting for them.” April pounded a fist into her palm.

Donnie smiled proudly at his work. The team was fired up once more, suddenly filled with excitement as they started to plan for tomorrow’s ambush. For once in his life, he actually prayed that the Foot were the ones holding Michelangelo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

I was waiting in the getaway car  
You were stuck in the hotel bar  
He was a proper Englishman  
He had one last pipe before the cops broke in  
You poured the gasoline and  
I drove into the flames  
History will hate us  
But they'll never forget our names

First one up was a preacher's son  
Last one down was an Englishman  
I'm in bed with his bow tie on  
All dressed up for a hit and run  
Na na na na na na na  
All dressed up for a hit and run  
Na na na na na na na  
All dressed up for a hit and run  
-"Hit and Run" by LOLO

______________________________________________________________________

Raph stretched his legs slightly from where he sat up in the museum rafters along with the other members of his family. The mystic artifact was brought in a large wooden crate that was placed in an exhibit that looked to be under construction. The artifact was left without being opened and the museum closed shortly after. The lights were all shut off, leaving only the moon that dipped in through the skylights to illuminate the large circular room. A security guard had passed through the room once, but according to Donatello, he had then retired to his desk to take a nap.

Raphael glanced around at his family, studying their posture as they all waited for the Foot to inevitably show themselves. April, Leo, and Donnie seemed to be engaged in a hushed conversation that Raph couldn’t hear. He wanted to get on them about not paying more attention to the mission at hand, but knowing their father was keeping an unwavering gaze at the artifact, he let it slide. Things had been tense recently; it was no secret as to why. Seeing them engage with each other normally was almost a relieving sight.

Donatello barely slept, and barely spoke. Their purple brother had a nasty habit of shutting out the world when things got bad. It got to a point where not even April could coax the softshell out of his lab for a meal. Raph remembers carrying his brother to bed more than a few times these past two weeks.

Raph had noticed Leo wasn’t fairing too well either, but unlike his purple-clad twin, Leonardo was definitely better at hiding it. He would energetically challenge his brothers to races and spark conversations during patrols while they looked for Mikey. The slider would make sure his family remembered to eat and always offered a supportive hug to their oldest brother whenever he was feeling hopeless. Leo’s confident smile never slipped his face… that is, when he wasn’t alone. Raph had caught him several times sitting on the couch or just standing in random hallways, staring into oblivions. Raphael can’t remember a time when he’d seen Leo look so… lost. Of course anytime the over-protective snapper tried to console him, Leo would snap back into his calm façade and deny that anything was wrong. The way the odachi wielder was able to shift his entire outward appearance in less than a second gave Raphael whiplash, and he could do nothing but blink in confusion as Leo evaded him, giving an excuse to go check on Donnie.

Raph noticed their dad was definitely beyond stressed. His fur had been falling out in clumps, and the rat man jumped at every little sound. Despite his increasing worry, Splinter stayed determined as a solid rock to ground his family. He would constantly hover over the rest of his sons making sure they were all safe as though if he let them out of arm’s reach they would all be taken away too.

April… oh, April was the supportive pillar holding them all together. Bless her heart, the girl had lost so much sleep to keep up with their search for Mikey AND tackle school at the same time. The turtles had practically begged April to take a break from patrol and catch up on her homework and sleep, but she refused again and again, claiming nothing was more important than finding Michelangelo. Not that they could disagree with her, but the sacrifices she was making for her second family filled them with an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards her.

Raph hadn’t even taken the time to consider how HE was dealing with everything. To him, it didn’t matter. His family came first, and he would shove his own emotions into the corner to make room for the more important task at hand. The overwhelming sense of guilt and grief seemed to be the only things that would seep through every so often. After all the bottling up of emotions, and the lack of any progress in finding their youngest brother, Raph felt his anger start to boil up and spill over. More often than not, Raphael would find himself in front of their punching bag, losing himself in a cloud of red until the poor defenseless sandbag would tear and whither. The snapping turtle would then sew the bag shut in a way of calming himself down. He hadn’t had a problem with his temper in years; he figured he outgrew it once he became a teenager. Having all these negative feelings back just gave him even more things to feel guilty about.

A soft but harsh, “Yame!” that was directed towards the chattering group by Splinter brought Raph from his thoughts.

The group of five, snapped their heads back to the artifact as they saw shadows dance along the ground. Looking up, Raph saw the silhouette of multiple humans up on the outside of the skylight. One of the glass panels was opened and without a sound, numerous ropes were dropped to the ground, a flood of Foot ninja sliding down them. Most of them appeared to be origami soldiers, but a few actual recruits stood still as two figures walked up to the shipment crates. They seemed to be conversing with each other, but the Hamatos could barely even make out the words.

“How come our Senseis didn’t come along?” the smaller shadow asked as his companion started breaking the seal from the box the artifact was contained in. “Gathering a piece of the dark armor seems kinda important.”

Raphael narrowed his eyes. Something about that voice sounded… familiar. He would have to keep an eye on that recruit for sure.

“They have ally negotiations with a powerful man who could potentially strengthen the clan,” the taller figure answered sternly. “Besides, they trust us enough to handle this.”

The turtles and April in the rafters turned towards their father waiting for his command.

Once the rat man nodded and jumped to the floor, his children not a second behind him, all hell seemed to break loose.

“It’s the turtles!” a random Foot recruit shouted, spotting them first before getting tackled by a skilled rat mutant.

“FOOT CLAN, ATTACK!” the female recruit Raph recognized from their fight at the auction house blurted, pulling her red mask up, over the bottom half of her face, and unsheathing a spear from where it was attached to her back.

“Get em boys!” Raph shouted as he pounded his tonfas together, red mystic energy surging up his forearms into solid punching gloves. He had to stop himself from calling themselves the Mad Dogz, it just didn’t feel right without the whole team charging into battle.

Foot and mutants clashed as the group met in the middle of the room in an intense battle. Cassandra met Splinter head on, his tail blocking an attack from her long spear. She jumped back slightly, giving the weapon a spin before rushing at him again. She ended up impaling the ground as the rat had jumped out of the way, turning into a kick which sent the recruit flying into a few origami soldiers, poofing them back into paper.

As Casey was getting up, she turned towards the shadowed figure she was conversing with earlier and barked an order at him. “Do not let the turtles claim the artifact!”

At the same time, Raph paused his onslaught on a foot soldier to locate their blue brother. The snapping turtle was too engrossed with his own battle to stop the small recruit from racing towards the artifact. The way the shadow lept and bent in the air sent an unsettling ping of deja vu through Raphael. “Leo, don’t let them get the mystic thingy!”

With a sharp nod, Leo quickly sliced the origami soldier in front of him, making it rain confetti before his eyes locked on a small recruit grabbing what looked to be a shoulder plate and taking off into another exhibit of the museum. “Oh no you don’t!”

Leo jumped over a glass display with some sort of model ship in it, taking off after the Foot ninja.

Cassandra dove back into her spar with the mutant rat, trusting Michelangelo to be able to out-run the blue turtle. With an onslaught of punches that Splinter was blocking, Casey had to roll out of the way from a sudden swing of a purple Bo staff. She glanced around noticing how quickly the red turtle and a human girl were taking out the entire team of Foot ninja that had been taken along with her.

“Where is Michelangelo?!” The purple Bo staff was swung towards her again and again as she cartwheeled further out of the way. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She finally planted her feet on the ground, ducking under the staff and punching the purple turtle’s exposed abdomen.

As Donatello tumbled backwards, Splinter quickly replaced him on the battlefield, coming in with a kick which Cassandra blocked. “I know your leaders have something to do with his disappearance,” he spat, tripping the recruit with his tail, and pinning her to the ground. “Where is my son?!”

Casey brought her legs up, kicking the rat off over her head and rolled to the side where she grabbed her spear, pulling it out of the ground it had been stuck in. “As if the Foot Clan would waste time with buffoons such as you!” She spun her weapon before jumping back into the fight with a battle cry, hoping her partner was faring alright.

______________________________________________________________________

As Mikey flew through the dark halls, it took every ounce of self-control in him to not turn around and face his pursuer. The moment he heard the turtle’s feet touch the ground and realized they had been waiting for them in the rafters, Michelangelo froze. He knew that they were bound to show up again considering there was a feud between them and his clan, but the box turtle wasn’t expecting to face them so soon. This could be his chance to get revenge for what they did to Newark and all his Foot brethren living there. Of course, Cassandra had ordered him to flee with the artifact, and loyalty to the clan came above all else. So, Michelangelo sucked up his rage and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

He noticed how close the turtle behind him was, so Mikey sacrificed a moment of his precious head start to knock over a suit of armor, attempting to slow down his pursuer. Leo flipped right over the pile of metal, rolling onto his knees before jumping up and chasing after the Foot ninja again. He couldn’t allow them to escape with the artifact, not before Donnie had enough time to complete the second half of the plan.

Leo grunted as he strained to speed up, he noticed there was something familiar about the way the Foot ninja he was chasing moved. The ninja had this bouncy fluidness to them as they dodged and rolled through statues and furniture that was definitely only obtained by a skilled gymnast. Leonardo also noticed that the recruit’s form was small, with almost child-like proportions; there also appeared to be some sort of baggage on their back.

As the Foot ninja started sliding down the railing of a grand staircase, Leo noticed how close they were to the exit. If the Foot ninja made it outside with the artifact they were as good as gone and the rest of the Foot would retreat.

“Hey, hey, hey! Why the rush?” The slider pulled out his odachi and in a swinging motion he opened a glowing vortex right in front of the Foot ninja.

The recruit let out a startled yelp as he was suddenly plunged into a glowing abyss only to fall back onto the floor at the top of the staircase, the blue turtle standing between them and the door.

“Sorry, buddy. That’s a no bueno.” Leo smiled cheekily as the Foot ninja seemed to freeze in confusion. “I’m gonna have to ask you to hand that back over to me.”

As Leo outstretched his hand, leaning against his sword, the Foot ninja crouched into a defensive stance, pulling a sharp curved blade from his side.

Leo could only see a glimmer of the metal weapon, but the way the Foot began to swing it alluded that it must be attached to some sort of chain. “Ah, I see. We’re gonna do that thing where you stay all silent and confident but then I beat you up, okay then.”

Leonardo launched himself at the Foot ninja swinging his sword downward but was dodged as the shadowed figure sidestepped out of the way and swung his own blade towards Leo’s neck. Leo ducked just in time, only for the figure to flip over him, facing his front, and twirling the weighted end of his kusarigama around Leo’s wrists.

Leonardo let out a, “wOAH,” as the figure yanked on the chain sending the odachi-wielder flying over them and crashing into a wax statue display.

Michelangelo couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his lips. He wanted to wipe that smug look off the blue-banded turtle’s face and make him pay for everything he had done to Mikey’s clan. If he hadn’t been tasked with something as important as keeping the mystic artifact safe, Michelangelo would have claimed vengeance on the turtles tonight. He knew the clan’s cause outshined his own needs, so instead he retracted the chain from the turtle’s wrists and booked it down the stairs. Vengeance will have to wait for another day.

“No!” Leo untangled himself from the statue pile and picked up his fallen sword as he chased after the small recruit.

A blue portal opened in front of Michelangelo yet again, but he was prepared this time and quickly dodged around the portal. What the Foot ninja wasn’t expecting, was the red-eared slider to launch himself through the other end of the portal, tackling the shadowed ninja to the ground while the mystic shoulder plating was knocking out of his hands.

They both let out pained grunts as Leo’s momentum launched them into a rolling tumble, which the blue-cladded turtle ended as he grabbed the Foot recruit’s wrists, pinning them to the ground over his head.

Leonardo was sitting on top of the pinned recruit and let out a victorious cry. “Gotcha!”

Before Leo could gloat further, he let out a sharp gasp as the moonlight from a nearby window finally illuminated the details of the Foot recruit. His eyes suddenly widened, and his stance became stiff, almost in fear.

“No…” Leo felt his throat clamp up; his mouth was suddenly extremely dry. Even if there was a black mask covering half of the recruit’s face, and several strokes of red paint around his eyes, the freckles that painted his cheeks were an unmistakable feature. In half a second Leo took in his entire appearance. His plastron was ripped from any stickers, and half hidden by the top of a kimono, but it was the same shape and color. There were wrappings all along his arms and legs but the three fingered hands peeking out were small and sturdy, like those of an artist.

Leo almost choked meeting the eyes of the turtle he had pinned to the ground. Those eyes were sharp, not the same soft and loving gaze that Leo remembered. They held no recognition, no sympathy, and no regret. Leo felt his eyes begin to water. What had they done to him?!

“Mikey?”

Seeing his moment of weakness, Michelangelo used it to his advantage, kneeing Leo in the gut which forced the slider to let go of the pinned turtle. Leonardo grunted rolling to the side while holding onto his plastron. “Mikey, stop, it’s me!”

Mikey, however, did not listen as he unsheathed his kusarigama once more, swinging the bladed end down towards the distracted slider. Sensei was right, they were targeting those of the same species. What disgusted him most was the fact that this slider tried giving him some sort of pet name, as if that would make him more inclined to listen.

Leo rolled to the side, trying to pull himself together as the curved blade pierced the ground where he had been crouching. His shoulders were trembling with shock and confusion. Their sweet innocent Micheal would never cooperate willingly with the Foot. Even if the bubbly orange-cad turtle had sided with the enemy he would most certainly never attempt to hurt his family. But the fiery red eyes that pierced through his heart, told Leo that this wasn’t his little brother anymore. “Mikey, you need to listen to me. I don’t know what they did to you, but you aren’t in your right mind right now!”

A growl slipped Michelangelo’s professional composure and he rushed at the blue turtle, successfully kicking him across the room. “Shut up!”

Leo’s eyes widened as he saw the kick coming in slow motion. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to dodge. He rolled to a stop, noticing the aching pain that was now throbbing through his shoulder before glancing up at the not-so-Mikey who was just standing a couple of feet away.

Leonardo couldn’t speak; he couldn’t move. He felt nauseous with shock and worry. That was his baby brother. The same brother who reenacted Lou Jitsu movies with him, the same brother who cried when Raph stepped on an ant, the same brother who demanded a daily quota of hugs from his family, the same brother that had been missing without a trace for thirteen days, the same brother who was only gone because of him. Mikey was standing within arms reach… and Leo still couldn’t grab him.

“Please… Mikey, just come home with me.” Leo’s voice was thick with emotion, barely able to form coherent words. “I promise whatever is going on we will fix it. Just please…” 

Michelangelo sneered, feeling no sympathy for the yokai he desperately wanted to take his rage out on. He would not fall victim to their tricks. When he noticed that the slider was no longer going to advance on him, the box turtle reeled in his emotions and snapped himself back into ninja mode. He pulled back his kusarigama chain and grabbed the mystic artifact while sprinting out the door.

Leo felt something hot trail down his face before splattering to the ground below him, forming small puddles of tears. He was right there… and Leo let him go.

______________________________________________________________________

“Foot Clan, retreat!” Cassandra announced as her communicator started buzzing, signaling that Michelangelo had successfully escaped with the artifact. She wiped her bloodied nose, watching the purple turtle and rat eye her with rage. They both rushed towards her again, not ready to let her go just yet, but with a quick swing of the arm, she threw down a smoke bomb.

Donnie swiped around his bo staff, trying to clear the air and when he could finally see, they all witnessed the shadows of the remaining recruits disappear through the skylight window.

April and Raph trudged over to the others, heaving in breaths of air as they sheathed their weapons in exhaustion.

“Did you get it, Donnie?” Raph asked with a tinge of anxiety. Leo did a good job of distracting them long enough, but the rest of their plan all relied on Donatello’s ability to get close enough to the female recruit.

Donatello pulled out a screen device from his shell and clicked it on with a devilish smirk. He held it out for the rest of his family to see as a red blinking dot seemed to be moving over a GPS map. “She’ll lead us straight to their hideout.”

“And then we can find out if they’re keepin’ Mikey locked up in there!” April smiled, giving Donnie a fist bump.

“They aren’t keeping him locked up…” Leo’s pained voice made the group turn around and rush over towards him in worry. The slider looked like he was having trouble supporting himself as he wobbled on unsteady feet and had a tight hold on his left shoulder.

“My son!” Splinter gasped as Raph held the slider upwards.

“I saw him…” Leo’s eyes were still wet with emotion. “T-They did something to him, Dad. He… he didn’t recognize me…”

A thick blanket of shock rolled over the group and settled like a heavy weight in each of their guts. 

“What are you talking about, Leo?” April whispered, disbelief evident in her eyes. 

“He was helping the Foot…” Leo gasped as he collapsed onto his knees, Raph coming down to the floor with him. He began to shake as more tears spilled over his cheeks. “H-He was so a-angry.”

“No… that can’t be right!” Donatello slammed his bo staff on the ground a little harder than intended, causing everyone to jump. “You must’ve just been imagining it. Mikey would never betray us!” 

“I didn’t imagine a-anything!” The slider snapped at his twin, his sorrow evolving into anger. “H-He was right in front of me. I s-swear!” 

“Witness reports, especially by people with conflict of interest to the victim, are unreliable,” the softshell hardened his gaze with an icy tone that sent shivers down his family’s spines. “I’m not saying you're lying. I’m just saying whoever you saw back there, helping the Foot, wasn’t Michelangelo.” 

“Please, Dad, you gotta believe me. It was him.” Leonardo turned away from his twin, feelings of betrayal stirring in his stomach. 

Raph and April stole a glance at each other, uncertainty laced their eyes. 

“No matter what has happened…” Splinter kneeled down and cupped the side of his son’s head, rubbing it affectionately. “...we will bring your brother home, and then we will do whatever it takes to fix this.” 

After a few moments of searching his father’s eyes for any doubt, Leo launched forwards pulling his usually frivolous father into a tight embrace. Splinter quickly reciprocated the hug, patting his slider son’s shell while looking up to the rest of his children with a determined nod.

Pulling away from his son, Splinter gave a soft nuzzle to the slider’s forehead with his nose, whispering a soft prayer for his family.

______________________________________________________________________

Michelangelo soaked up the attention as his superiors all praised him and his companion on their successful mission of retrieving the dark armor piece.

“Good job, recruits!” The Lieutenant stroked the smooth shoulder plating with his hand in fascination. “The Foot has had a productive evening.”

“The ally negotiations were a success?” Cassandra questioned as the Brute took hold of the armor, allowing it to reconnect with its other pieces on the armor stand.

“He seemed pretty invested after we told him about the armor,” the Brute chuckled. “He’ll be around to introduce himself soon enough, and when he does, I want you two to keep an eye on him.”

The Lieutenant nodded in agreement. “While we both would benefit tremendously by this partnership, he is not to be trusted until he proves himself worthy of the Foot.”

“Hai, Sensei. We will not fail you!” Cassandra and Michelangelo both bowed in sync before being dismissed by their Senseis.

As they leisurely strolled down the hallways, back towards the location of their rooms, Casey nudged her turtle companion slightly with her elbow. “You did amazing back there. I can tell they’re both impressed.”

Mikey looked down. Then why did it all feel so wrong? Despite all the accomplishment tonight, there was still a nagging voice in the back of his head that screamed with alarm. It was a sense that something bad was coming. He thought he would feel slightly better after roughing up one of the turtles who had wronged him, but instead he almost felt… guilty. He shook away the thought immediately. There was NO way he was going to pity the same person who was responsible for this entire identity crisis. Not being able to place his gut feeling to any real logic, Mikey dismissed the random thought and looked back up with a small smile. “Thanks! But really you’re the one who should be getting the praise here. You held off five opponents practically by yourself! I just ran off with the artifact.”

Casey smiled at the reversed compliment and threw an arm around the box turtle’s shoulders. “Then I guess we both did great. I think this deserves a reward.”

Michelangelo looked up with a mischievous smile. “Brute’s gonna kill us if he finds out we ate his ice cream stash again.”

“Well then I guess we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find out it was us.” Cassandra grabbed Mikey’s hand and they ran back towards the cafeteria, suppressing giggles of tomfoolery, completely oblivious to the small circular tracking device attached to the back of the female recruit’s ankle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited confrontation!!! Don't worry, this won't be the last our turtles see of him. 
> 
> Huge thanks to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was no chapter last week! I was pretty swamped with finals and I totally forgot about updating.

This dream isn't feeling sweet  
We're reeling through the midnight streets  
And I've never felt more alone  
It feels so scary, getting old  
This dream isn't feeling sweet  
We're reeling through the midnight streets  
And I've never felt more alone  
It feels so scary, getting old  


You're the only friend I need  
Sharing beds like little kids  
And laughing till our ribs get tough  
But that will never be enough  
-"Ribs" by Lorde 

______________________________________________________________________

The day after Cassandra and Mikey’s mission had flown by fairly quickly. The Lieutenant had decided to give them the day off from training, mostly just because both Senseis were off making more arrangements with the mysterious yokai ally. It was later in the evening after a day full of goofing off and a game of hide and seek throughout the base, Casey and Mikey were hanging out in the former’s room.

“How did you even fit in that toolbox?!” Cassandra held her chest in laughter as she flopped down onto the bed.

“Hide and seek is sacred, Cassandra,” Mikey nodded with faux offense. “You think I would just hide behind a door like an amateur?!”

“You’re right. I’m sorry for even SUGGESTING such a thing,” Casey played along while Mikey made himself comfortable on the floor.

“You better be. Now come on, you said we could take those Lou Jitsu personality quizzes when we were done!”

“Okay, okay!”

They both sat in comfortable silence for a moment while the female recruit patted around her bed, looking for the phone she had left before they went to play hide and seek. She eventually looked up from where she was laying on her back when her hand was grasping nothing but empty sheets.

“That’s weird… I could have sworn I left my phone here.” Cassandra’s brows furrowed together in confusion.

“Don’t worry it’s gotta be around here somewhere.” The ever-energetic turtle launched up from his position on the floor. “I’ll help you look for it!”  
Casey mumbled a “Thanks,” before digging through the blankets on her bed, starting to strip the mattress of its coverings in hopes of her phone being buried in them.

Mikey did a quick glance around the room, but considering it was already so minimalistic and tidy there wasn’t much to behold. The hockey posters were some of the only décor and Mikey knew he wasn’t allowed to touch the duffle bag of sports gear. The box turtle turned his attention to the only place left to look which was the chest sitting right behind him. He couldn’t remember a time he had ever seen what was inside the box, so taking it’s handle with care he slowly pulled open the lid.

There were a lot of random items in the chest that Mikey couldn’t quite recognize. Fluffy journals with brightly colored keychains, old hockey pucks, multiple little-league trophies and ribbons, action figures, and plastic jewelry weren’t really items that he would expect someone like Casey to be hoarding in her room. Getting distracted from what he originally opened the chest to find, Mikey noticed an open shoebox in the corner that seemed to be filled with old photos. The turtle grabbed a few, pulling them out, and studying the smiling faces captured in these moments of time.

Before he could ask the recruit behind him about who the people in the photos were, Mikey heard a sharp gasp from behind him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Suddenly Cassandra was right behind the turtle, slamming the chest close. 

Realizing that he had done something wrong, Mikey pulled slightly into his shell in shame. “I- I’m s-sorry I didn’t-“

Cassandra looked down, anger coated her eyes as she caught sight of the few photographs being cradled in the turtle’s hands. “Don’t touch those!” She snatched the polaroid photos out of Michelangelo’s hands and quickly turned around from him, holding them close to her chest as if she were trying to shield the pictures from the world.

“I’m s-so sorry I-I shouldn’t’ve-“ The young turtle’s voice cracked alluded he was close to tears. “I d-didn’t k-k-know-“

Cassandra wanted to be furious. She wanted to turn around and yell at him for snooping through her personal belongings; for touching something so precious and irreplaceable. But hearing the quiver in his voice melted the venom in her heart. It was her fault for having the chest so easily accessible. Michelangelo could have never known the value those items had to her. So instead, she let out a breath, calming her temper before turning around to face the trembling turtle still on the floor.

Her heart ached as she witnessed the state of distress he was in. Michelangelo’s head was halfway into his shell and tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he held himself in a tight embrace. She mentally slapped herself for being so snappy with him before crouching to the ground in front of Mikey.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered calmly. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“Y-you’re not m-mad?” the turtle whimpered.

“No.” To prove herself, Casey pulled the turtle towards him and wrapped her arms around him. “I just freaked out because these are very important to me.”

“W-what are they?” Michelangelo gave a curious whisper from where his face was nuzzled in the warm crook of Casey’s neck.

Casandra rubbed the polaroids with her thumb, debating whether or not she should allow him to look at them. She always found it hard to say “no,” to him; now more than ever. Peaking over the shell she was embracing, she searched deep into the eyes of the figure in the photograph. She found it ironic how similar Michelangelo was to the person printed on the paper; it only felt right that he got to see.

“They’re pictures… of my family.”

Just as she predicted, Mikey’s interest was piqued, and he started squirming in the hug to try and see the pictures that were behind him. “Can I see? Please, please, please?”

Cassandra felt a warm smile crawl across her face as she let go slightly to allow Mikey to resituate himself, now sitting in her lap, facing the photos that were held in Casey’s hands.

Mikey gave a hum of curiosity as his eyes traced over the little boy in the photo. He had jet black hair and chocolate brown eyes. The boy looked young, maybe only four or five years old and wore a large smile that radiated happiness. “Who is that?”

“That’s my little brother, Milo.” Cassandra rested her chin on the top of Michelangelo’s head as she handed him the photograph so she could look at the others in her hands.

“You have a little brother?” Mikey gasped in wonder as he studied the features of the kid in the photo.

Cassandra nodded, sifting through the other photos, the nostalgia wrapping around her making her feel weightless.

“Who’s that?” The box turtle pointed to a young woman in a hospital gown, holding a baby cradled to her chest. She must have just given birth.

“That’s my mother,” she hummed. The woman looked strikingly similar to Casey with a firm jawline and a pointed nose. She remembered getting compared a lot to her mother.

“She looks just like you,” Michelangelo marveled.

Casey flipped to the next photo. It was a group photo of all three members of her family. She and her brother were sitting on each side of their mother on an old flower-patterned couch. However, Mrs. Jones looked drastically different in this photo. She looked thin, the outline of her bones present in her arms, and her skin was as pale as a sheet. She was smiling in this photograph as well, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Casey’s mother looked… tired. 

Cassandra frowned, quickly presenting the last photo before Mikey could comment. This one was of Casey and Milo, both looking to be around the ages of five or six. Both children were unaware of the camera taking their photograph as they were engrossed in coloring a large paper banner of sorts. Crayons were scattered around the floor where they both lied on their stomachs in what appeared to be some sort of doctor’s office or hospital room.

“I didn’t know you like to draw!” Mikey laughed pointing to an elephant that child Cassandra was coloring.

“I don’t… not really.” Cassandra shrugged. “Milo was more artistic than I was. It was his idea to make the giant card.”

Casey paused, rolling over the words in her mouth, wondering if it’s safe enough to let her guard down. “He… reminds me a lot of you actually. I think you two would’ve gotten along.”

“Really?!” Mikey turned around, facing Casey with star-struck eyes. Honored to be compared to his best friend’s sibling. “Could I meet him someday?”

Casey felt her smile waver. She knew this is exactly where this conversation would lead her. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to go through the painful memories again. Cassandra had already spent too many hours of her life weeping and grieving over a story that no one else seemed to care about. Mikey, however, he…. He cared. Casey KNEW that he cared because Michelangelo told her on a regular basis. He gave casual “I love you's unapologetically. He showed he cared by being there, and making sure Casey never felt alone or unimportant. He had done nothing BUT care.

So, maybe Casey would let her guard down… just this once. “I don’t think so.”

Noticing the heavy tension that began to fill the air, Mikey paused. “Why not?” he asked with such innocent curiosity.

“He’s far, far away.” Cassandra bit her tongue, trying to find the best way to explain such a complicated legal situation to a mutant who probably knew nothing of the law. “I’m… not allowed to see him anymore.”

“What? That’s not fair!” the turtle pouted, crossing his arms. “He’s your brother, you should be allowed to see him anytime you like.”

“It’s… really complicated, Michelangelo.”

“And what about your mom? Are you not allowed to see her either?” he asked with sympathy.

“She’s not…” Casey felt herself stiffen. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to start this conversation in the first place. She almost wished she had just put the photos back in the chest and made it up to Michelangelo later with some soba and a Lou Jitsu movie. “… around anymore.”

“Oh…” Mikey cast his eyes downward, guilt clenching his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, kid.” Casey rubbed the turtle’s head like a cat. “She was really sick; there was nothing anyone could do about it.”

Noticing the opening in conversation, Mikey took his chance. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Cassandra had been there for him when he learned about the death of his mother; it only felt right to be able to be there for her as well.

“It was a really long time ago.” Casey rubbed her arm, not sure if she was ready to dump this all on her young companion. “Milo was only five, and I was six. She had always been sick… I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t. It just got really bad and all of a sudden, she was gone.”

Mikey put a comforting hand on top of Casey’s, snuggling slightly into her chest to share his warmth.

Casey remembered that day so vividly. She was holding Milo so tightly she was almost surprised she didn’t accidentally break him. Milo had been shaking and sobbing in her arms, begging for her to do something, to bring their mother back. It had always just been the three of them, and now Milo and Cassandra were alone in the world. They had no family or friends to turn to. She remembered how the doctors had ushered them into a waiting room as soon as all the machines their mother was hooked up to started to beep rapidly. They were left alone and fearful until the two doctors came back out almost an hour later. A doctor turned towards them huddling on the ground, sorrow laced his eyes, but his form was guarded. He had probably seen the same sight hundreds of times and was trying to spare himself the pain of getting too involved. Another doctor came up to them, Casey couldn’t remember her name, but she had been so caring to the newly orphaned children. She spoke with soft words and had gentle touches as she carefully led them out of the room and into an office where they would sit for hours until someone in a suit came to pick them up. The whole time they were waiting that doctor had sat with them and cradled them, giving them the affection only a mother seemed to possess.

Casey was eternally grateful for that doctor, for giving them comfort during such a devastating day in their lives. Unfortunately that slight hope that things would get better didn’t last.

“Milo had a family lined up to foster him. They wouldn’t tell me where they were sending him.”

Cassandra had screamed and cried, begging for them to not take her brother away. Milo was all she had left; she was all Milo had left. She was certain without each other they wouldn’t survive. The ache would be too much and would stop her heart. She remembered Milo wrapping his arms around her torso as she swore to him she would find him again and she would take care of him. The caseworkers had pulled them apart, despite Cassandra’s kicking and screaming. She remembered the pure hatred she felt. Something dark overtook her that day as the last bit of sunshine in her life was dragged into a car and driven away to somewhere she couldn’t follow. Without her light she was lost and alone. The emptiness she felt never really seemed to go away, but only got worse as time went on.

“I was sent to a local foster home, but I didn’t stay long.” Cassandra didn’t realize she was hugging Michelangelo tighter than before. “I ran away.”

She remembered numerous nights being on the brink of starvation and hypothermia as she wandered the alleyways and crawled under bridges, too scared to go into the warm shelters in fear they would drag her back to her prison.

“And that’s when the Foot Clan picked me up.”

Those fire-headed bastards had swooped in like angels, picking her up and teaching her how to stand on her own two feet. She was only seven years old, but she was determined to prove her worth. She trained every day for years, only being allowed on patrol every so often. She would become strong so one day she would break Milo free from his prison as well. There wasn’t a day that went by without her missing him. The gaping hole in her heart was filled with training and pledges to the clan. She remembered the broken bones, sprained ankles, and busted lips. No matter how many times she was knocked down, she got back up. She rose above the other recruits, determination becoming the only thing keeping her heart beating.

“The day I turned 18, I barged into that office, demanding I have my brother back.” Casey almost choked as she remembered the events that only happened barely a year ago. “He had already been adopted out of state. I had no custody rights, and they couldn’t give me any information of his whereabouts.”

It wasn’t until soft green hands came up to gently wipe her cheeks did Casey realize she was crying.

Cassandra paused in shock, wanting to say something but her throat was clenched too tightly to let any words through. Instead small arms snaked around her neck and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“It’s not your fault.” Michelangelo whispered, somehow able to read her mind.

“But if I only-” Casey started, trying to disprove him.

“No.” Michelangelo couldn’t see her face from where he was nuzzled against her neck, but he tightened his hold to signify his words importance. “You were just a kid; you couldn’t have done anything.”

Casey gripped the turtle’s shell, crying harder. She trembled and sobbed questioning what she had ever done to deserve Michelangelo. The truth was, she didn’t. She kidnapped him and lied to him. She had wronged him and still he hugged her and comforted her because he couldn’t remember it. Knowing that, she cried even harder.

Mikey continued to rub her back and whisper comforting words. He knew the pain of losing a loved one, but to know the one you love is alive but out of your reach is a kind hurt Michelangelo could only imagine.

They sat in a warming silence, until Casey’s cries had turned to hiccups and her trembles had turned to shudders. The emotion that downed the room was thick and hard to breathe in, but somehow Mikey managed to stay light and warm, becoming a contrast to their surroundings. He almost seemed to glow as he pulled apart from Casey and grabbed some tissues for her, his small smile shone brighter than any light in the room.

Casey attached herself to that warmth, desperate to claw herself away from the cold emotions that tried to pull her down further. While she dried her tears, a muffled ringtone pierced through the room, making them both freeze in anticipation.

Casey turned towards where her hoodie was thrown onto the floor, a phone screen was illuminated in the pocket.

“Hey, I found your phone!” Mikey grabbed the hoodie, digging the ringing phone out and handing it over to Cassandra who began to chuckle at the interruption of their emotional moment.

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely, noticing the ringing was coming from an alarm she set to remind them it was almost time for patrol.

Michelangelo, noticing the time was already grabbing his mask and touching up the red facial paint around his eyes.

“Tell you what, after patrol maybe I could see if we have any colored pencils or something lying around.” Cassandra got up, brushing herself off.

“Really?!” He quickly turned around, a bright smile plastered on his face. He had expressed his want to experiment with art after painting some designs for a few recruits who had wanted custom uniforms as well. “That would be awesome!”

“Let’s hurry up though!” Casey grabbed her pair of boots, oblivious to the circular device that was still stuck to the heel. “Lieutenant will give us a boring section if we’re late to the briefing.

“And, Michelangelo!” the female recruit blurted, making the box turtle freeze his task. “Thank you…” 

The mutant responded with a warm smile that sent flutters of joy through the atmosphere. “It’s what friends are for.”

The pair threw on the rest of their gear, and hastily made their way down the hallway. The negative emotions stirring in Casey’s head fluttered away with the presence of her best friend, knowing they were about to have another exciting night of parkour and races through the concrete maze of New York City.

______________________________________________________________________

Donatello tensed with anticipation from where he sat perched on the edge of a building. The purple tablet in his hands blinked as the GPS signal lit up the screen. He, along with the rest of his family, save their residential optimist, watched carefully from the shadows. After the night at the museum, the tracker Donnie had expertly planted onto the female recruit led them to a shoe store with a storage warehouse behind it. The irony didn’t even pull a smile out of the softshell as he was more focused on their preparations to rescue Michelangelo.

They were all determined to follow the Foot right back to their hideout and break Mikey out immediately, but both Splinter and April convinced them it was a bad idea. They were all tired, emotionally worn from the battle, and would need to come up with a strategic plan before barging right into the enemy’s territory. Raph had argued the hardest, claiming he could kick the doors down and be out with Michelangelo before the flame-headed freaks could even blink. The softshell wanted to agree, he was desperate at this point as well, but his sense of reason overcame all else and Donnie knew if they waited a day to rest and recuperate, their chances of success would be much higher.

As much as he wanted his youngest brother to be here so they could finally bring him home, Donatello prayed that Leo had been wrong about what he saw. Donnie didn't know people very well; his strengths lie in machines and coding, and he knew engineering better than any emotional situation. But Donatello could say with utmost certainty he KNEW Michelangelo. It was hard to forget anything about the energetic ball of sunshine because he’d constantly be reminding you. Michelangelo was vocal about where his heart stood, and his actions always proved them further. He knew that Mikey would never work against his family. Even if he were somehow being blackmailed into joining the Foot, Michael would NEVER hurt Leo like he had. Which meant if Leo was correct about the person who attacked him being Mikey, something was terribly, terribly wrong. Two terribly’s.

“According to the blueprints Donnie was able to get for the shop, it looks like the vent that we could get in through is on the right side of the roof.” Raphael’s leader voice pierced through the unusually quiet city air.

“Good. Now let’s get in, grab Mikey, and get-” Leo was interrupted by his twin’s hand slapping over his mouth.

“Waitwaitwait-” Donatello held up his ipad for the others to see. “We’ve got movement. It looks like our gal pal is coming our way.”

“You think they know we’re here?” April’s brows furrowed in concern.

“Impossible!” Raph began to argue before Splinter's tail gave him a gentle whack.

“Hush, my sons!” the rat mutant hissed, pointing towards a metal door on the warehouse that led into the alleyway connecting to the building the family perched on. “Look.”

“I’ll race you to the boardwalks!” A joyous shriek echoed through the alleyway almost sending Donatello off the side of the building in shock.

The softshell recognized that voice immediately, and by the looks of his wide-eyed family members… they did too. He shook his head in denial peering over the edge of the roof, too afraid to move. It couldn’t be…

“You know we’re supposed to actually be working, right?” The female recruit gave a smile as she punched Michelangelo’s arm playfully.

“We are!” The box turtle gave a small whine as they stepped into a ray of light that was coming from a window on the building the turtles were perched on. “We’re just… also racing.”

Donnie felt himself choke on his saliva but held back his cough in fear of revealing their location. Just as Leo had described back home, Mikey was wearing some sort of cropped kimono with a sleeve missing. His mask and stickers were nowhere to be found and the bright red paint illuminated on his face. He was dressed like a Foot ninja.

Donatello put a hand to his chest, trying to get his frozen lungs working again as he turned towards his family utterly lost at what to do. Despite all the warning from Leo, Donnie could have never been prepared.

Leonardo looked petrified, unconsciously rubbing his heavily bruised shoulder as he trembled slightly. April had grabbed a hold of Splinters robe, mouth agape in shock. The rat himself looked defeated; a heavy weight seemed to be crushing his shoulders, his posture sunken.

Raph… Raph looked angry. Angry wasn’t even the right word. He looked volcanic. His teeth were grit so tightly Donnie was sure they would shatter. The concrete the snapper’s hands were clenching had visible cracks as Raphael tightened his grip. The genius remembered how Raph used to throw tantrums when they were kids. He remembered how Raph used to lose himself for a few moments in anger, only to feel incredibly guilty after breaking a chair or ripping a pillow. He learned to overcome his anger, to control it. From the looks of the dark shadows covering Raph’s eyes, Donnie could tell his oldest brother wasn’t all there.

“Raph?” the softshell gave a fearful whisper, wincing at the hoarseness of his voice.

A deep growl erupted from the snapper’s throat, his family’s eyes snapping towards him.

“My son, don’t-” Splinter reached out towards his oldest trying to grab his arm to anchor them both to the rooftop, but his claws grasped empty air.

The large spiky form landing in the alleyway shook the surrounding buildings, making the Foot ninja in front of him jump back in shock.

Cassandra had a kunai out within half a second, standing in front of the box turtle whose eyes were coated with fear.

Mikey almost fell to the ground, stumbling backwards a few steps as he tried to keep his heart from stopping on the spot. A jolt of terror shot down his spine as his knees seemed to lock in place. The snapper in front of them was half hidden by the shadows. His sheer size was enough to scare the kusarigama-wielder but the negative energy that filled the air forced his throat to clench. Despite not even being able to see the eyes of their confronter, Michelangelo could tell they were piercing right through him. He thought he was going to pass out, but Cassandra’s hand that grabbed a hold of his forearm grounded him, keeping him in the world of the living.

Flashbacks to the mangled trashcan in the alleyway from the second time he saw the turtles began swimming around in Mikey’s head. He knew exactly what that huge turtle was capable of and being on the blunt end of that force was something Michelangelo prayed he would never have to encounter.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Raphael’s deep voice only added to the venomous atmosphere as he straightened himself to be even taller.

“What?” Cassandra narrowed her eyes. She had never felt afraid of her turtle enemies, but she had also never felt their presence filled with so much hatred.

“You…” The snapper’s teeth grit, flashing sharp fangs. “You were the one who took him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casey backstory reveal HaH hAH! sorry for the cliffhanger, I'll see you all next week <3 
> 
> Huge thanks again to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! I'm really sorry for the sudden disappearance. I think this story might have to go on hiatus for now until I can get some motivation back. Until then here's chapter 11! Chapter 12 is already half written so hopefully I will be able to finish it up soon

Cold as a valley  
Where I lay my head  
Cold as a woman  
In another man's bed  
Down in the forest  
With the devil in me  
I'll remember the looks on their faces  
Through the sycamore trees

And we'll chase a fire  
Come to take me home  
I'm lost in the woods  
And I wander on

Hellfire, hellfire  
Take my soul  
I've waited, waited  
And I'm ready to go  
Mothers, children  
Lock your doors  
I'm waiting  
And I'm ready to go  
-"Hellfire" by Barns Courtney

______________________________________________________________________

Michelangelo began to back away further, fear creeping up his spine as the snapping turtle loomed over Cassandra and him. He felt his vision spin when he remembered that he probably needed to start breathing again. Cassandra’s grip on his arm was possibly the only thing keeping him from floating away. The box turtle could handle the blue one. He could probably even take on the purple at the same time. He had no doubts that he would be able to run circles around them. But Red? Red terrified him.

As Raphael took an intimidating step forwards, the pair started to move backwards, only stopping when four solid objects landed behind them.

Mikey whipped his head backwards catching sight of two more turtles, the human, and rat man that he had only caught glimpses of before, each in a defensive pose with their weapons raised. He gulped, siding back to back with Cassandra. They were now completely trapped in the alleyway.

Michelangelo glanced towards the door to the warehouse… They could possibly run in to retrieve backup, but that would be revealing the Foot’s secret base to their sworn enemies. Of course, there’s a possibility the turtles were already aware of its location. It wouldn’t be the first time they sniffed one out. It was a huge risk that Mikey wasn’t sure he wanted to take, and by the tensing of Cassandra’s muscles as she prepared for a fight, she wasn’t about to test their luck either.

“Raphael,” the softshell gave in a warning tone, sending a harsh glare towards the intimidating snapper.

“We are not here to fight.” The rat man stepped forward holding up a hand in a sign of peace.

“Yet you surround us with your weapons at ready,” Cassandra spat, raising her kunai a little higher without trailing her eyes away from the largest turtle in front of her.

“Mikey, please, we just wanna talk.” The blue-cad turtled sheathed his sword in cooperation before holding up his hands as well.

Michelangelo locked eyes with the slider before hardening his gaze. “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, okay!” Leo nodded “I won’t. Please… hear us out.”

Cassandra growled. While Michelangelo was already completely loyal to the Foot, hearing the turtle’s side would only raise questions to Mikey that she wouldn’t be able to answer. Their recruitment plan’s foundation was sturdy but delicate. It would be easy to dismiss random proclamations of brotherhood as lies and attempts of distraction, but if they had time to sit down and explain themselves, things may get a little complicated.

“They have something planned,” the female recruit whispered to her partner. “We need to get out of here.”

Mikey nodded stiffly, slowly moving his hand towards his concealed weapon. “After what you’ve done to me, I owe you nothing.”

“What?” Leo breathed out, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“Now leave me and my clan alone!” Michelangelo launched forward, pulling out his kusarigama and launching the weighted end towards the slider, knocking him across the alleyway and crashing into a metal dumpster.

At the same time Cassandra launched forward, throwing a handful of blinding powder into the looming snapper’s eyes. He let out a disgruntled shout before stumbling backwards, rubbing at his eyes. Raphael’s furious growls echoed through the alleyway.

“Leo!” the girl with pigtails yelled back at the collapsed slider who gave a thumbs up in response.

The purple-clad turtle spun his weapon before charging at Michelangelo, using the tech bo to block a strike of a circular blade. “I don’t want to hurt you, Michael!”

“We’re way past that line, buddy,” Mikey hissed out while their faces were in close proximity, battling for strength while the staff and blade clashed. “And stop calling me these weird nicknames!”

The box turtle moved slightly to the right, hooking the blade around the tech bo, and yanking hard, sending the weapon spinning out of the softshell’s hands. Donnie lost his balance, falling forward as a rat mutant rose to replace him on the battlefield. He whipped around his tail which Mikey blocked with his forearms that were crossed in front of his face.

Splinter wanted nothing more than to scoop up his son, wipe the paint off his face, and carry him home where he would be safe. He wanted to cry out, to tell him that it would be okay, that they would fix this, but knowing it would only cause his son more pain and anger, he stayed silent. He was afraid if he opened his mouth to speak, words would force themselves out and then he wouldn’t be able to stop.

Michelangelo kicked the hesitating rat, causing him to tumble into the human who had just helped the softshell up. The blue-clad turtle was also recovering, leaning against the dumpster with a hand rubbing the back of his head. Mikey tensed; he was still shaking slightly from the fear that had been shoved to the back of his mind temporarily. They were unprepared for the turtles’ encounter and needed to retreat before things got worse.

The kusarigama-wielder began to turn, mouth open to shout for Cassandra when a body flew by him; a ferocious growl echoed through the alleyway to accompany it.

The box turtle gasped as Cassandra crashed into a stack of wooden crates; they splintered and broke under her weight, leaving her limp body draped over them like a ragdoll.

“CASSANDRA!” he shouted before turning to face the foe who had rendered her unconscious.

Raphael’s bulky frame encased the small turtle’s vision as he stepped forward, mystic energy crackling through his tonfas.

The temporarily forgotten fear had jolted right back up through Mikey’s spine and rendered his mind in shambles as panicked thoughts took over his composure. A large shadow was cast over the box turtle as Raphael stood over him.

Mikey backed up against the wall, never breaking eye contact with the snapper as he did so. He swung his weapon frantically, daring the large mutant to come closer.

“Raph!” the human girl called out, running between Michelangelo and the red-clad snapping turtle. “I know you’re stressed out, but you need to calm down, big guy.” She reached out a hand, completely unafraid, and rubbed soft circles in the scales of his arms.

The snapping turtle visibly tensed and stepped backwards along with the human who was holding his hand and rubbing his arm. “I- I didn’t-“

“It’s okay, Raph, we know,” she hushed him and pulled him away more from the cornered turtle who was looking like he was about to faint.

“I’m sorry guys… I- I blew this,” Raph repeated as the others came to stand alongside them. He was looking around frantically at the destruction he caused in his blinding anger before meeting the eyes of the petrified turtle in front of him. Raph stepped back even further, no longer listening to the comforting voices of his family. He felt his heart splinter and shatter into pieces at the absolute fear that encased his youngest brother’s eyes. Michelangelo was afraid of him. 

“You are deeply troubled, my son.” The rat man took Raph’s other hand. “You cannot blame yourself.”

Mikey glanced over to Cassandra who had yet to move from the crates she was laying on. He felt his breath quicken as he realized he was surrounded and completely outnumbered. He wanted to flee, but he couldn’t possibly leave Cassandra here. He had no way of communicating to his Senseis for help; the only thing he could do is pray that someone would check the west entrance soon. Like a cornered animal, his fight response kicked in and decided if he were to go down, it would be kicking and screaming.

He mustered up all the courage he could and with a sharp cry he launched the weighted end of his chain towards the group who were currently focused on reassuring the strongest of them.

The weight made contact with Raphael’s shoulder, sending him staggering back slightly. Mikey wasted no time in jumping forward, spinning into a roundhouse kick that knocked the softshell into the rat. He noticed that the human stepped backwards in hesitation. She had no weapon and looked unwilling to fight. In fact, they all looked unwilling to fight.

The blue-clad turtle swung his leg out, attempting to trip Michelangelo who just jumped over the attack. The kick was sloppy and half hearted. Michelangelo had fought this specific turtle before in the museum, so he had a pretty good understanding of his skill level. Compared to last night, the slider’s fighting was pathetic. He hesitated with every move and took hits that Michelangelo KNEW he could dodge. 

The snapper jumped back into the fray, grabbing onto Michelangelo’s wrists, and twisting them to be pinned behind his shell, causing his kusarigama to clatter to the ground.

“GAh!” Michelangelo let out a cry of discomfort and he felt the hands behind him loosen significantly. He also thought he saw a flash of… guilt… glance over his attacker’s face. Mikey wrenched his arms free, trying to scramble away from the snapper’s reach, but ran straight into the plastron of the tall softshell, knocking Mikey to the ground. The slider jumped down to crouch behind Mikey.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” the purple-clad mutant whispered, sympathy coating his voice. “This is for your own good.”

Michelangelo’s eyes widened as he felt something prick the back of his neck. His hands immediately slapped over where he felt the slight sting and he pulled back a small glass dart, its contents empty. The box turtle gasped as a newfound terror encased his mind, sending him into a state of hyperventilating panic.

He shot up, shoving the blue mutant aside and attempting to make a run for it, but barely got a few steps away from his attackers before his legs seemed to stop responding. Mikey tripped, grunting as he landed on the floor of the cold alleyway. He felt his vision shake as everything started to blur and echo around him. His breathing quickened yet at the same time it was as if an entity was sitting on his chest, smothering him into stillness. His limbs felt heavy like lead and darkness began to swim in the edges of his vision.

In his last moment of desperation, Mikey reached out with a shaky hand towards his partner lying motionless in front of him. After a few moments, his hand fell limp to the ground, eyes fluttering closed as the sedative kicked in.

Raphael stepped forward, guilt gripping his plastron where his aching heart was covered as he knelt down towards his unconscious brother. “You said we wouldn’t have to use the sedative.”

“I wasn’t counting on him being so resistant,” Donatello whispered as he picked up his fallen bo staff and sheathed it on his battle-shell. He had only agreed to bring it in the first place because Leo had been so insistent. 

“I told you… they did something to him,” Leo sighed as April came to stand next to him, swinging an arm around his shoulders in a supportive side hug.

Raph knelt down, delicately scooping up his unconscious brother and cradling him close to his plastron. Michelangelo’s muscles were relaxed, and his panicked defensive expression had smoothed out into one of a peaceful slumber. Raphael would have had no idea that anything was amiss if it weren’t for the facial paint and Foot uniform.

“What about her?” April pointed towards the female recruit. She was starting to get worried considering how long she had been out already.

“Leave her,” Splinter commanded. “Her allies will find her out here soon. She will be fine.”

The others nodded and began scaling the building in front of them in a silent and hasty manner, eager to finally return home with the presence that had been desperately missed for over two weeks.

______________________________________________________________________

As soon as the family arrived home, Michelangelo had been taken to Donnie’s lab where the makeshift infirmary resided. The softshell had checked and rechecked the box turtle for any signs of injury or illness. Despite the exhaustion, the rest of the family had hovered around the outside of the lab, waiting for any sort of diagnosis before they could finally collapse into a relieved slumber. Donatello had exited the lab not an hour later proclaiming that there was no evidence of head trauma or any sort of poison.

“Then why was he acting like… that?!” Leo questioned, desperation lacing his voice. “He didn’t recognize any of us at all!”

“I don’t know,” Donnie huffed out with an aggressive sigh. He didn’t like not knowing things. He was supposed to be the smart one, yet through this whole ordeal, he’d done nothing but be helpless. “Thanks to the tranq, he’ll probably be out for a couple of hours. I already took blood samples and gave him a full physical. Until he wakes up, there’s nothing else I can do.”

April stepped up and patted the softshell’s shoulder. His frustration was pouring off in waves, and she could tell he probably needed to sit down and vent for a minute. “Let’s go heat up some leftovers while we wait, okay?”

Donatello barely gave a nod before he was being dragged off to the kitchen by his human friend, leaving the others to stare longingly at the infirmary’s glass doors.

They all agreed that despite Mikey’s unusual behavior, they wouldn’t resort to restraining him unless he proved to be a threat to himself or others when he awoke. Leo was pretty sure it was solely because Raph had looked like a kicked puppy laying him down in the cot and seeing the car seat buckles that Don had installed as DIY restraining cuffs.

In fact, the kicked puppy look still hadn’t quite left the eyes of their leader. Leonardo wordlessly brought up a hand and placed it on the spikey arm of his oldest brother. He hadn’t seen Raph have an outburst like that in years. It was a little concerning, but at the same time completely understandable. They all handled stress in various ways and Raph just happened to have a more… aggressive approach. It’s not like it was a total surprise either. The snapping turtle had been a bit more temperamental since Mikey first disappeared. As the leader he always took the brunt of these tense situations, trying to shield his younger brothers from the responsibility. Donnie would sometimes be allowed into his “older bro handling it all on their own” club, but Leo and Mikey were strictly banned members. With the weight of a missing brother for over two weeks on his shoulders, Leonardo was only surprised he didn’t snap sooner.

Just as he did when they were children, Raphael would always feel incredibly guilty after an outburst. It was no secret he hated his anger and had worked so hard since childhood to control it and learn better ways of processing his emotions.

Splinter finally mustered up the courage to go through the glass doors, separating the infirmary from the rest of the lab to go sit with his son who rested peacefully on an old hospital bed that Donnie had revamped.

Leo was about to follow suit when he noticed Raphael wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon. He looked almost fearful to go any closer.

“He was scared of me.”

Leo blinked in confusion, turning his head to look at Raph’s eyes which were cast down towards the floor in guilt and shame.

“I lost my cool and I scared him,” Raph continued.

“You didn’t mean to,” Leo reassured. “You would never do anything to hurt us. Mikey knows that. We all know that.”

“Mikey isn’t Mikey right now,” Raph argued, turning towards his younger brother with a pained expression. “And he may not be Mikey for a while.”

Leo’s smile fell into a grimace. As much as he hated to admit it, Raph had a point. They had no idea what was going on with their youngest. Donnie had the theory of some sort of head injury resulting in a temporary personality change, but nobody had even considered Leo’s testimony to be true until tonight. They hadn’t had much time to figure out what was wrong.

“We’ll sort this out, big brother.” The slider patted the eldest with his hand, content to stare from behind a glass door while their father kept watch over the figure laying gracefully in the sheets like a sleeping angel. “I promise.”

______________________________________________________________________

The moment April and Donnie crossed the threshold into the kitchen, Donnie immediately grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a can, and threw it across the room, knocking several items off the counter. April winced as objects clattered to the ground in a loud echoing crash before putting a hand on his shoulder, staring at him with a deadpan face.

“You done?” she questioned raising an eyebrow.

Donnie simply grunted and went to go stand leaning against the island, his forearms crossed laying on the counter. “I should be in my lab right now analyzing samples.”

“You SHOULD BE eating this left-over pizza I’m about to heat up and then take a nap.” April left no room for argument as she threw a cold pie into the preheated oven. “And God knows when the last time you drank water was.”

“I don’t need water, I need answers.” Donatello slammed his forehead onto the counter as well, his voice becoming muffled.

At that moment, April also set down a glass of water in front of him. “Drink. All of it.”

The softshell rolled his eyes but also obliged knowing that his human companion can and would result to violence to make him drink it. “Okay, Mother.”

April stuck out her tongue in response before turning her attention back to the oven. They stood in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until the timer beeped and April was hoisting a steaming pan of pizza out of the oven. Before Donnie knew it, a plate was slid in front of him with April sitting on the other side of the island, a slice of her own in hand.

“Didn’t you say this was for everyone?” Donatello casually questioned, picking up the slice before April would get too impatient and threw a plate at him.

“It is,” she nodded. “They haven’t gotten to see him yet, Don. Just give them a minute.”

Donatello remembered the darkness that coated his oldest brother’s eyes and how Leo was still rubbing his bruised shoulder.

Digging into the pizza, the warmth enveloped the purple-clad turtle, chasing away a chill he wasn’t even aware of previously. He felt his shoulders lose their tension and remembered just how tired he was feeling.

“I just wish I knew what was going on so I could fix it already,” he yawned, trying to brainstorm now knowing April would probably force him to bed after this.

“He’s barely been home for a few hours, you gotta give it time,” April said with a smile, finishing her slice.

“You don’t understand. He had no physical injuries or abnormal substances in his blood test.” Donnie sighed in frustration before setting down the half-eaten pizza slice and shoving the plate away. “He didn’t REMEMBER us, April. You don’t just magically get amnesia.”

April paused, then held up a finger. “Wait a minute, you may be onto something.”

“What do you mean?” Donatello glanced up annoyed. “I literally just said I have nothing.”

“You may not be able to get magical amnesia… but what about MYSTICAL amnesia?” April hinted while shoving the plate of pizza back towards Donnie.

The softshell paused, eyes widened, before slapping his forehead with his hand. “GAH! Why didn’t I think of that?!”

Donnie was about to launch off the island and run to the lab before a hand grabbing his battle-shell rooted him in place.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The human glared sinisterly down at the turtle who was struggling to get free from her grasp.

“To my lab! I have some tests I need to run.”

April pushed him onto a stool and yanked the plate of pizza back towards him. “Eat, then take a twenty-minute nap.”

“But April-!” Donnie tried to argue before a hand was slapped over his mouth.

“It just gives you motivation to go to sleep sooner,” she gave a wide victorious smile as Donnie shrunk in his seat, accepting his defeat. “I’ll give the guys a heads up and some pizza while you're doing that.”

The softshell rolled his eyes in fondness as he shoved the rest of the pizza into his mouth and got up to go take a brief rest in his room. He already knew that once April sets her mind on something, there is nothing anyone can do to persuade her. The easiest way around this was to just follow her instructions and not put up too much of a fight. He caught sight of April holding out a tray of pizza to Raph and Leo who were still standing outside the infirmary before sliding into the tunnel that connected to his room.

Donatello quickly dropped his battle-shell, the hydraulics hissing as it unlatched itself from his back. He massaged his aching sides from wearing the heavy shell too long before collapsing face first into the sheets, not even bothering to remove the rest of his gear. He looked up at the wall across from his bunk. It was covered in photos of his family. His eyes immediately drew to the bright smiling face of a particular box turtle. Donnie frowned, studying the face of his youngest sibling, and reminiscing on how he looked only half an hour ago, right below him on the medical cot. Once making sure there were no trackers or life-threatening wounds, the softshell had immediately removed the uniform and gently wiped his face clean of the red paint. Usually he would inwardly praise Mikey’s creativity, but seeing as this… costume was just something the Foot forced onto him, he had come to hate the particular markings. An orange mask belonged on that face, and nothing else could ever take its place.

He typed up an alarm for twenty minutes on his wrist-screen, and smothered his face into the pillow, exhaustion taking over. Whether he wanted to or not, the genius fell asleep within seconds, his soft snoring ringing in the mostly empty metal-coated room.

______________________________________________________________________

“…cruit!”

“RECRUIT!”

Cassandra jolted upwards, her world spinning into view as two faces were smothering close to her face.

“GAHHHH!” she screamed, trying to scramble backwards, only for her hand to slip on a broken piece of lumber, making her fall and hit her head again.

“Calm down, spitfire. You’re gonna give yourself a double concussion,” the raspy voice of her sensei echoed around her in a weird, distorted tone.

Casey groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as she held tightly onto her head with both hands. She felt two strong arms wrap around her forearms and pull her out of the pile of shattered crates, into a sitting position on the concrete floor of the alleyway.

The female recruit peeled her eyes open, begging her vision to stop swimming as she tried to make out the voices of her superiors.

“Recruit, what happened?” the Lieutenant questioned, gripping her shoulders as her face contorted into confusion. “Where is the turtle?”

Memories flooded into her brain, particularly of a green fist launching her across the alleyway, right by a young mutant turtle who would be left outmatched without her. “Michelangelo!” she gasped, trying to stand to her feet before her knees collapsed, sending her into the Brute’s arms.

“They were here!” Cassandra began to ramble. “T-They ambushed us in the alley! There were five of them. They h-had us surrounded and then the red one… he-”

“Calm down, recruit.” The lieutenant brought his hand to her shoulder again, trying to ease her rapid breathing. He then met eyes with the Brute. “The turtles found our location. We must regroup to the secondary location immediately with the armor.”

The Brute nodded in understanding. “What about that little turtle?”

“We’ll have to worry about him later, the dark armor is our number one priority.” Looking down again at the hysteric recruit being supported by the Brute he sighed. “Bring her to the infirmary, we begin evacuation immediately.”

The recruit weakly looked up at her blurry superior as the Brute swung her over his shoulder and opened the door to the warehouse, blinding her with the unexpected light from inside. She felt her eyelids falling close again as her concussion took over. Her last thought of a certain preteen who had been glued to her side for the past couple weeks.

“Michelangelo…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Shou (@daikenkeru on twitter) for beta reading this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware how cheesy it is to put song lyrics along with your fanfictions. I have a passion for music and have been collecting a playlist of tunes that I think compliment this AU fairly well! So hopefully you can bare with me while I sprinkle in a little bit of my creative inspiration every now and then. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed!


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